Extreme Photo of the Week

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Backcountry Skiing Hokkaido, Japan

Photograph by Joey Schusler

“Japanese snow will ruin you for life,” says ski filmmaker Nick Waggoner, seen here plowing through a backcountry spot a half hour’s drive from Niseko in Hokkaido. “You'll never be satisfied anywhere else after you drink from that cup. Every night you fall asleep and by morning, magically, there are a few feet of snow outside your window.” Waggoner and his buddies at Sweetgrass Productions have explored this terrain over the last decade, and it appeared in their film Signatures.

“A ski tour through those woods is an exercise in gratitude for all the awesomeness I've been lucky enough to witness there and all the friends I've shared it with,” says Waggoner, one of our previous Adventurers of the Year, who lives in Nelson, British Columbia. “I didn't touch a camera or computer the entire three weeks,” says Waggoner of their self-powered tromp though the best powder on Earth. “There were so many brilliant filmmakers on that trip between Felt Soul and Joey Schusler, but some of the best images are the ones you don't try to capture.”

Getting the Shot

When filmmaker and mountain biker Joey Schusler woke up on the first morning of his three-week ski trip in Niseko, Japan, he knew he was in the right place. “When we woke up that morning, the small hotel we were staying at was almost completely buried in snow, and our rental car had seemingly vanished into a drift of snow. I had never seen anything like it in my life. At that point I knew it was going to be a good trip.”

Schusler and his group of friends, composed of some of our favorite filmmakers in skiing and beyond, were just enjoying what they love—skiing powder. “It was a great trip for everyone because it was a chance to just enjoy skiing and not have to worry about making a film. It was really cool to see Nick shred in front of the lens, without the stresses of filmmaking and carrying heavy gear around. He’s actually a very talented skier, and it was fun to watch him in his element.”

Skydiving in Rosharon, Texas

Photograph by Ben Nelson

Getting the Shot

Photographer and skydiver Ben Nelson says that the biggest challenge to getting this shot of 57 skydivers attempting a world record-setting big-way vertical formation was shooting images while holding the center position. “In big-way skydiving the center, or base, of the formation is responsible for holding the formation together. If the base doesn’t fly well then the rest of the group won’t be able to set their formation.” Because of this, Nelson opted to shoot with a GoPro Hero3+ set on burst mode. “This allowed me to just press the button, not worry about framing, and just focus on flying.”

Nelson and his team attempted the record seven to eight times. By the end of the weekend they had set three world records, three national records, and four state records in Texas.

The record-breaking event honored pioneering big-way skydiver Robby Bigley, who died in a skydiving accident in 2009. “About a year ago, Robby’s wife and friends were going through some of his old documents, and they found the blueprints for the formation that's in my picture,” says Nelson. The formation had not yet been achieved until this day. “When I see the sun peeking through the formation, it makes me feel like Robby was there with us, and it makes me smile.”

Kayaking Over a Waterfall in Pedrosa de Tobalina, Spain

Photograph by Nicolas Armer

Getting The Shot

"I was impressed with this location because the waterfall is located almost inside the town," says German photographer Nicolas Armer of this photo of Spanish kayaker Aniol Serrasolses dropping off a waterfall in the town of Pedrosa de Tobalina in Castilla y León, Spain. "You just park your car on the street and then you can drop down a 40-foot waterfall with your kayak. When people think of the word 'adventure' they probably think of countries or locations that are far off, not right in front of their door. This location is a good example of why it's worth exploring your home area for cool spots!

"Our world is changing so fast. Moments like these remind you to slow down, take a deep breath, and be grateful for the simple things in life," says Armer. "Seeing Aniol dropping down that waterfall while the rainbow was shimmering in the sun was just breathtaking."

Skiing Mount Yotei, Shikotsu-Toya National Park, Japan

Photograph by Jason Hummel

Getting the Shot

"Seconds later he was lost in the fog hundreds of feet below,” says photographer Jason Hummel of this moment with skier Louie Dawson, who's carving turns down Mount Yotei in Shikotsu-Toya National Park, Japan. “My biggest challenge was how to capture the skier and the fog spilling into the volcano's crater. If the skier was too high, I'd miss it, too low, and I'd be staring into the bottom of the crater. But the skier arced across the ridge, and I was happy to capture the moment."

Hummel and his crew made three trips down the crater. At the end of each descent, they’d climb back up to the volcano’s rim. "We enjoyed the peak until sunset, then raced our way back down to 5,200 feet, where our RVs were parked," Hummel recalls.

Hummel is an adventure photographer based in the Pacific Northwest. He has been shooting professionally since 2009.

Surfing Peʻahi or Jaws, Maui, Hawaii

Photograph by Fred Pompermayer

This might be the best moment of my life, thought big-wave surfer Albee Layer as he was riding Pe'ahi, also known as Jaws, off Maui's north shore in Hawaii. “I could have been deeper, but the wave was so perfect I knew I was going to make it, so I just turned my head up with my eyes closed, put my tongue out, and yelled.”

The 23-year-old Hawaiian surfer has been surfing this wave since he was 15 years old. “Of the waves we know in the world, this one is pretty much the best," he says. "You can paddle into as big of a barrel as you can find anywhere else in the world.”

Getting the Shot

“On this day, the wind was very strong, making it difficult for both the surfers and for me to shoot. With each wave the wind was blowing spray onto the camera, making it hard to keep my lens dry,” photographer Fred Pompermayer recalls.

Pompermayer used a Jet Ski to get close to the action and in and out safely between breaks. “Jaws is wide open, and huge, with the water moving all the time. The Jet Ski positions me to get the best shot and allows me to get out fast.”

Pompermayer has been shooting big waves for more than a decade. He's seen the sport evolve over that time. “It used to be that surfers would only use Jet Skis to get out to the large breaks, but now some courageous surfers have started paddling out for the giant waves.”

Bouldering in the Buttermilks, Bishop, California

Photograph by David Clifford

"Bouldering is all about taking on movement that does not seem like it should work. When it does, you feel powerful," says ace climber Daniel Woods, who just made the first ascent of the Process, an intensely difficult problem on a 50-foot boulder in the Buttermilks near Bishop, California. It took two winter seasons, around 15 days, and a year's worth of mental preparation for Woods to complete this prized project that has turned away many other climbers.

This boulder bakes in the sun all day, which makes it impossible to grasp the minimal holds, so Woods climbed at night. "We ended up having 25 crash pads and resorted to night sessions to get those cold, sticky temps," Woods says. Luckily, a motivated crew of friends came out to help carry pads, arrange them, hold lights, and give encouragement beneath the stars. "Because of all the logistics and mental and physical torture this line brought us, we thought the Process was an appropriate name.

"The movement is very committing. The holds are sharp and cut up your fingertips, allowing for only a few tries each day. The height of the boulder made it difficult to feel safe and commit in the no-fall zone at 30 feet. So yeah, there were a lot of factors that made this thing next level."

Ice Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, Tanzania

Photograph by Christian Pondella/ Red Bull Content Pool

“Like climbing icebergs in an ocean of sand” is how ice climber and consummate adventurer Will Gadd described ascending the melting glaciers on 19,341-foot Kilimanjaro, Africa’s tallest peak, in late October 2014.

“The ice is really old, so it fractures very dynamically and easily—it's scary, surprising, and beautiful,” says Gadd, who was named one of our 2015 Adventurers of the Year for making a bold paragliding traverse of the Canadian Rockies with Gavin McClurg. “Oddly, the ice felt very similar to icebergs in the ocean, probably due to the really big difference between surface and interior temperatures. Also, the ice in bergs is very old, same with this.”

Scientists have been studying glacial retreat on Kilimanjaro for decades. As for the ice Gadd climbed, it may already be gone. “I'd be very surprised if [the ice] were still there now,” says Gadd. “The guides said it was radically different every week they were up there—a huge glacial system in its death throes really.”

Getting the Shot

"The biggest challenge was acclimating to that altitude in just five or six days and trying not to overexert ourselves while working and climbing at that elevation," says ace adventure photographer Christian Pondella, who regularly shoots with Gadd. "This photo and this trip was all about surreal juxtapositions. Moments before taking this photo it was clear, blue skies and desertlike heat as we were walking in the sand with our bare feet. Then, instantly, the clouds and fog rolled in and it started to snow. My goal in this photo—and all the climbing photos I took on Kilimanjaro—was to capture the uniqueness of ice climbing in Africa from the tallest point on the continent."

Snowboarding Mount Ruapehu, New Zealand

Perfect conditions on the last day of the season at Mount Ruapehu's Turoa ski field made it one of the best days of the year. Here, a snowboarder on the ideal spring snow makes a turn toward Mount Ruapehu's volcanic crater. Located on New Zealand's North Island, Ruapehu is one of the world's most active volcanoes, with its last major eruption occurring in 2007.

Exploring a Blizzard in Greenland

Photograph by Alexandre Buisse

“It had been blowing hard for a couple of days, keeping us tentbound, and Alex had beaten me once too often at one of his nasty French card games,” says Tony Hoare of this moment on a ski expedition in eastern Greenland with photographer Alexandre Buisse. They made the first ascents of three mountains and a few first ski descents. “After a lot of cajoling on my part, he agreed on a day down the glacier to explore a very fine looking nunatak [an exposed, rocky ridge].”

A raging snowstorm kept them from seeing much, but that was OK with Hoare. “There was something richly satisfying about being out in this blizzard," he says. "Bundled up warmly and with a steep ridge behind us as a handrail, I was as happy as a pig in poo as we pushed into the wild weather.”

“I love a ski descent. It is an especially rich experience when many hours of boot packing or skinning up are reduced to a few minutes of intense exhilaration on the ride down,” he says. “Even more so when climbing a Pacific Northwest volcano and on the descent skiing past many others trudging down on foot—then it feels like cheating. In Greenland it was a great blend of climbing and skiing. Though the rock in places was often bad enough I was thankful of the solid snow under my boots.”

Hoare is a humanitarian and adventure sports photographer based in Vancouver, British Columbia. Recently he has covered Sierra Leone, Bangladesh, and Chilean Patagonia.

Skiing the Antarctic Peninsula

Photograph by Mike Schirf

“I love the skiing down the best, but I don't love the skinning up,” says 11-year-old Lilliana Libecki, seen here with her dad, Mike, on their recent sailing-skiing expedition to the Antarctic Peninsula in front of Paradise Bay and a colony of Gentoo penguins. It was Lilliana’s very first expedition with her dad, a National Geographic Adventurer of the Year, Expeditions Council grantee, and veteran of 50-some remote expeditions. “I will never ever forget the skiing and icebergs and how curious and unafraid the penguins were,” Liliana says. “It was so marvelous.”

When Mike returned from Antarctica in 2008 with photos of skiing and snowboarding on the continent, Lilli, then five years old, was inspired. “Lilli loved that I was skiing down to penguins and talked about it continually as she got older—this dream really stuck with her,” Mike recalls.

“Finally when she was old enough, she started training for this goal in the backcountry and worked so hard to make this dream come true,” Mike says. “It was the best trip of my life, hands down, and my sixth time to Antarctica.”

Free Climbing El Capitan, Yosemite, California

Photograph by John Dickey

"I probably climb on a rope more than 90 percent of the time," says rock climber Alex Honnold, seen here with Josh McCoyon a four-day roped ascent of the PreMuir route on 3,000-foot El Capitan in California's Yosemite National Park. Honnold is known for his free soloing, or climbing without ropes. "You can't fully push yourself if you don't have a rope on since you can't risk falling off. This picture shows the beauty of free climbing—you can push yourself to absolute failure and there's no penalty."

Later that night Honnold made it to the summit of the route in darkness.

Getting the Shot

“One moment you're walking around on the top and the next moment you're stepping off a 3,000-foot cliff,” says photographer John Dickey of this shot of climber Honnold on El Capitan’s Muir Wall in Yosemite. “Shooting El Cap is unique in that you have so much exposure under your feet.” Dickey has photographed Yosemite National Park and El Cap for more than a decade but had never shot this part of the Muir Wall.

“I ran into Alex prior to his ascent and his intentions sparked my interest. I had several scenarios in mind, none of which could have compared to the actual moment,” recalls Dickey. Over four days, Dickey watched the climbers and hiked to rappel in when Honnold approached the crux section near last light on the PreMuir. “Trying to get into position or even just find someone can be mind blowing, and getting lost on El Cap is an experience in and of itself. That particular section of the wall gets the very last burst of light in the day, so I had my fingers crossed that the timing would work out to shoot right at that moment. When I rappelled in, Alex was ready to go and the light was even more spectacular than I had hoped,” he says.

Here Dickey captured a moment just before the climber’s roped fall. “When Alex fell off of that last hard move I could hardly believe it; the fall was huge and awkward. Before the fall, the fight he put out to try and stick that move ... was amazing. There were loud yells from the meadow down below, cheering him on.”

Dickey photographed with a Sony A7 and a Zeiss/Contax 25mm f/2.8 lens.

Bike BASE Jumping in Mineral Bottom Canyon, Utah

Photograph by Joey Schusler

Ride smooth, hips back on exit, pitch. This was the thought going through mountain-biking BASE jumper Ian Flanders's mind for this unexpected shot from Mineral Bottom Canyon near Moab, Utah, which was part of the recently released Camp 4 Collective video Beat Down. Flanders and his team approached the stunt with due respect for its potentially deadly consequences. “We rode a bike off a cliff into a rope jump a few years ago, which proved it was relatively safe to free fall with a bike but didn't tell us what would happen during the deployment of a canopy,” recalls Flanders. “To mitigate the possibility of calamity, we had our rigger Marty Jones design a cutaway system that would disconnect us from the bike if anything went awry.”

Landing was a particular challenge and one that they addressed with experience and careful planning. “The landings did not work out every time," says Flanders. "It took a while before we figured out the best method for putting [the bike] down. There were a lot of awkward landings coupled with slow-motion topping over. We wore full body armor.

“While it can be done safely by professionals, bike BASE jumping adds more variables to each jump, and it isn't something I want to make a habit of.”

Getting the Shot

“It was a moment of complete awe,” says photographer and mountain biker Joey Schusler. “I was quite nervous, and adrenaline was pumping through me. Cameras rolled and shutters clicked as the sound of tires on the slick rock suddenly disappeared.”

Schusler joined Flanders, Matt Blank, and filmmakers from Camp 4 Collective in Moab, Utah, to document the mostly unknown sport of bike BASE jumping. “I was actually one of the mountain-bike athletes on the shoot, and Ian was my ‘stunt double’ for the BASE jumping shots. I’m also a photographer, so when Ian geared up to ride off the cliff, I was eager to snap some photos of the event,” says Schusler.

The shoot and attempt came with careful planning for exact execution. “This was by no means a normal BASE jump, and thus the preparation to maximize the chances for success were taken very seriously. It was definitely a team effort. I only had one chance to get the shot I was after, so that definitely added to the intensity of the moment,” he says.

“I knew I wanted to shoot backlit into the sun, as the view in that direction was stunning. You also get a good gauge of the depth of the canyon that Ian was jumping into from the perspective that I chose to shoot from. Setting up the jump took most of the day, so I had plenty of time to experiment with what angle I wanted to shoot from,” he recalls.

“After a few short seconds the thundering sound of Ian’s parachute echoed through the canyon and he sailed down for a graceful landing as we all watched on in disbelief.”

First Ascent of Mustang Himal, Nepal

Photograph by Jon Mancuso

"I have actually never tried to climb an unclimbed mountain, so this was totally new for me," says mountaineer Melissa Arnot, seen here with Ben Jones about 100 feet below the summit of 20,600-foot Mustang Himal. They made the first ascent of the recently opened peak in Nepal's remote Mustang region, one of about 300 unclimbed peaks ranging from 19,000 to 25,900 feet that were opened to tourism in the fall of 2014.

"It was amazing to explore the unknown and to have to rely on the basics of map reading and route reading to find our way," says Arnot, who has summited Everest five times and co-founded the Juniper Fund, which provides financial support to the families of mountain workers killed on duty. "It really boiled climbing back down to the simplicity that first attracted me."

Getting the Shot

“I only hoped that the face was climbable, the ridge accessible, and that I’d get lucky and there would be some light cloud cover to act as a diffuser,” says photographer Jon Mancuso. “The biggest photographic challenge of the trip was simply the unknown nature of what we were trying to do.”

With so many unknown factors, Mancuso did not have specific frames planned out. “My only goal photo-wise was to get technical climbing shots on the face and scenic climbing on the ridge. I felt confident that if the conditions were good, there would be potential for spectacular photos,” says Mancuso.

“After weeks of breaking trail in difficult terrain, the challenges of the unknown, and an unsuccessful attempt on an adjacent peak, having the summit within reach was an incredible feeling. Once we got onto the ridge, the views were breathtaking and I couldn’t believe how beautiful it actually was.”

Climbing the Tube, Red River Gorge, Kentucky

Photograph by Andy Mann

Getting the Shot

“It’s been a few years since this amazing route was first found and bolted by Dario Ventura and then first climbed by Adam Taylor, both local fixtures down in the Red River Gorge of Kentucky," says Boulder-based photographer Andy Mann, who took this shot of Austrian climber Kilian Fischhuber.

"Since then, a thick grove of ivy has been slowly creeping up the soft sandstone and making its way over the top of the upper half of the wall. I’ve been keeping an eye on it, knowing the ivy explodes with color for only a few days before dropping its leaves and baring its naked roots. It took me a few years to time it correctly."

A mid-October cold snap sent the foliage into a frenzy and gave Fischhuber just the friction he needed to hold the sloping pinches and shallow pockets while ascending this unique route. “The Tube, rated 5.14b, is truly one of the South’s most stunning lines," Mann says.

Kayaking the Rauma River, Norway

Photograph by Ciarán Heurteau

Getting the Shot

“While we were making our way down to the put-in, I thought it could be great to get a shot from this spot,” recalls photographer Ciarán Heurteau, who captured this image of kayaker Lars Lämmler on the first rapids on Norway’s raging Rauma River. “I managed to sneak my way through, under a big boulder, to get to the edge of the slide, and there I was. I literally had water up to my shins and made sure my feet were steady so as not to slip down.”

Good weather was on their side—the expedition only saw two days of rain the entire trip. "The light was perfect that day, and the rainbow was coming and going. When Lars dropped in, I saw that the rainbow was there, but also that another one had just appeared on the left,” says Heurteau. “I quickly checked my camera's LCD screen to see if all this was true, but with the sun I couldn’t see clearly. The boys were rushing me to go down and continue the run. This was literally the start of the lower section, and we had a lot more to paddle through. I couldn’t wait to get back to the van and put all the shots on the laptop.”

Heurteau photographed with a Canon 5D Mark III and an f/2.8, 16-35mm.

Skiing the Tordillos, Alaska

Photograph by Blake Jorgenson, Red Bull Contet Pool

Get yourself over the bergschrund safe and sound, was the thought going through skier Cody Townsend's mind during this shoot in Alaska's Tordillos for the new film Days of My Youth from Matchstick Productions. A bergrschrund translates from German as “mountain cleft” and is a common obstacle on Alaska ski runs.

"Falling into one is extremely dangerous, as often the bergschrund extends down to the bedrock, which can mean the hole can extend hundreds of feet deep," notes Townsend, who lives in Squaw Valley, California. "I skied this line because the snow and spines above the bergrschund were too tasty to pass up!"

Getting the Shot

“Every shot counts out there,” says photographer Blake Jorgenson of this backcountry shoot. “Every shot is well thought out and planned out between the skiers, photographers, and filmmakers to make sure there are no mistakes.”

With a light snow season in Alaska, the crew faced challenging conditions. “As with every line, there are always mixed feelings, with intense concentration and excitement followed by a deep breath and relief as the heli swings back around for another shot,” says Jorgenson.

He photographed with a Nikon D4 and 300mm, f/2.8 lens.

Big-Mountain Freeriding in Swaledale, England

Photograph by Paris Gore

Getting the Shot

“We took a day to go exploring out in an old valley,” recalls photographer Paris Gore. Gore and rider Callum Jelly happened upon an old mining area, perfect for riding and photos.

“The hills of this part of England are not known for mountainous terrain. On the opposite side of the canyon was this slope down to the river that resembled the kind of big-mountain terrain we're used to riding in British Columbia, and I knew this was going to be a special shot, since no one has seen big-mountain freeriding come out of England before,” says Gore.

With clouds overhead, Gore waited for the perfect light to take his shot. “I was waiting for the right cloud to come and diffuse the light. I wanted to make sure you could see the shadow detail in the hillside,” he recalls. When Jelley fired down the mountainside, Gore was ready. “Sometimes a rider can carry too much speed through a line like this and tomahawk down. I was definitely afraid of Callum falling here, but the dirt was good, and he stayed in control all the way through. I could see he was carving pretty hard and knew we nailed it.”

Gore photographed with a Nikon D4 and a Nikkor 70-200mm, f/2.8 lens.

Bodysurfing Near Wollongong Beach, Australia

Photograph by Ray Collins

“Some people talk about big-wave surfing as this tragic, alarming, and death-defying adrenalin injection, but I almost feel the opposite. The ocean is very forgiving, and water makes for a wonderful cushion,” says bodysurfer Brenden Newton, seen at Wollongong Beach, New South Wales, riding what indigenous Australians call a bombora, a section of large sea waves breaking over a shallow area. “I ultimately feel like a seal playing on and negotiating a rocky outcrop, in swell, if you've ever been lucky enough to witness this majestic phenomenon.”

Getting the Shot

“This bombora just stands up and throws out; you never really know what it's going to do,” says photographer Ray Collins, who's known for both his surfing and wave photography. “Bodyboarders are usually after the mutant, ledgy, and thick waves that break on dry reefs—that most stand-up surfers don't want to ride. So I just try and capture fresh angles of what they do, and hopefully that translates into provoking imagery,” says Collins.

Collins almost always photographs from the water, but this time, he was shooting from land. “This is one of those times where land was really the only option, shooting with my long lens from the rocks.”

“Brenden is one of the most committed wave riders in the world, so when I shoot with him I'm always a little worried. He will go beyond the limits of what most surfers call rideable for a five-second rush. I shoot the action tight so you can get an abstract view of an interesting human story with the energy of the Pacific Ocean.”

Collins photographed with a 300mm lens.

Skiing Retallack, British Columbia

Photograph by Freya Fennwood

“It was our first day shooting, and these were some of the best athletes I’d ever worked with,” recalls photographer Freya Fennwood. Fennwood was working with Lynsey Dyer and Rachel Burk for the new ski film Pretty Faces.

“We were actually going to shoot closer to the rock in this photo after this shot, but when we started moving over there the snow popped out right in front of our filmer and the entire section slid away. If we had been in there we would have been dragged down a rock face into a big terrain trap,” says Fennwood, who has been working with Dyer's nonprofit, SheJumps, a community that encourages women to fully embrace the outdoors.

“It was a reality check and we made pretty cautious terrain decisions after that," she says. "It is hard to see all these epic lines around that would make perfect photos and not ski them, but I’m glad we made good decisions."

Fennwood photographed with a D7000 and a Nikkor 24-70mm f/2.8 lens.

Kayaking the Nachvak River, Torgat Mountains, Canada

Photograph by Pedro Oliva

“If you define adventure as being out of your comfort zone, then I would have to say the mosquitos and black flies were the most adventurous part of the trip,” says veteran expedition kayaker Ben Stookesberry, one of our previous Adventurers of the Year. “A close second was the shear weight of the remoteness of this place and the realization every night that you could get pulled out of your tent by a polar bear at any moment.”

Stookesberry and a dream team that included Erik Boomer, Chris Korbulic, Ben Marr, and Pedro Oliva traveled overland from California to Canada’s Labrador Peninsula—going from auto to train to epic 600-mile canoe paddle—just to access the remote headwaters of the Nachvak River. After seven years of planning and two failed attempts to reach Arctic wilderness by floatplane, Stookesberry was not disappointed. “The Nachvak was even more amazing than we could have hoped for in that it was entirely runnable,” he says. “It was certainly the first time in my expedition kayaking career that a first descent was made with no portages and at the same time had multiple drops approaching a hundred feet tall.

"It was important to me to experience first-hand that this fantastic wilderness is literally connected to us—just a thousand miles north of New York City."

Getting the Shot

“The thrill of seeing someone darting amid this swirl of water is exceptional. So clicking the shutter was a mere detail at the time,” recalls photographer and kayaker Pedro Oliva. Before Oliva made this image, he coordinated with Stookesberry. “I met with Ben before the jump. I planned to shoot a more frontal angle but thought this shot would be great. Without a doubt I’m glad I did it!

“The most surprising moment of the trip was when we reached the summit of the Nachvak and started the first descent of one of the finest rivers on planet Earth,” he says.

Paragliding in Malawi

Photograph by Jody MacDonald

Getting the Shot

“We spent five nights in the rain on top of Malawi’s highest peak, Mount Mulanje, waiting to get a weather window [in which] to fly. On the sixth day, we finally got it,” recalls photographer Jody MacDonald, who took this photo of pilot Matt Beechinor.

MacDonald and her paragliding crew were in Malawi working with the Cloudbase Foundation and Keen footwear to kick off the School of Dreams, a local initiative started by filmmaker Ben Jordan and Malawi’s only pilot, Godfrey Masauli. The crew’s mission was to identify paragliding locations in Malawi where tandem flights could be offered to locals and tourists and create a film that would inspire the outside world to support local activities in Malawi.

MacDonald was flying for an hour before she took this frame. She was also battling an unusual amount of motion sickness. “I’m a pilot myself and never suffer motion sickness when I’m flying solo, but for this shoot I flew tandem, which inevitably makes me very, very ill," she says. "I was vomiting quite violently between camera bursts, which made things challenging. As the sun began to set, I could see the grass on the hillside lighting up and wanted to capture the pilot flying around it."

Unlike other landing sites they had visited, here the team was greeted by hundreds of curious locals, who had never seen paragliding before. “It was amazing and very powerful, and at the same time overwhelming and stressful. We often couldn’t get enough room to pack up our gliders, so we’d have to just throw everything into the trucks and drive off to a more private place.”

MacDonald photographed with a Canon EOS-1DX and a 16-35mm, f/2.8 lens.

Rock Climbing Balzola Cave, Spain

Photograph by Bernardo Gimenez

Getting the Shot

“It was Adam's first attempt on the route and neither of us knew what would happen or where the action would be concentrated,” says photographer Bernardo Gimenez of this shot of Czech rock climber Adam Ondra. Ondra, who was one of our Adventurers of the Year for conquering the world's most difficult climbs, made the first ascent of this route—named Ira and rated 5.14d—in Balzola Cave, located in Spain's Basque Country. “The route runs across the main entrance to the cave and the sky outside was cloudy. It was like having a giant softbox lighting [the scene] from the left—perfect!”

Gimenez often tries to work without hanging from a rope, which restricts his position. “For this image, the ground rises slightly out of the cave, so it was ideal to work without hanging on a rope,” he says.

Gimenez regularly photographs Ondra, who climbs routes so complex that completing them often takes several days, allowing Gimenez to plan for the best photos. “This time I had no second chance; I couldn't ask him to stop or to repeat a particular movement,” says Gimenez. "Adam was climbing at a level where he felt relatively comfortable, and he rarely fails."

Surfing Teahupo'o, Tahiti, French Polynesia

Photograph by Kirstin Scholtz, ASP

“I was focused on not falling off the board because that was such a good wave,” recalls Brazilian surfer Gabriel Medina, who won the Billabong Pro Tahiti on August 25, 2014. “I was kind of nervous because the wave was too good.” Teahupo'o’s iconic left-hander lures many surfers—but with its beauty comes risk. “It's a perfect wave, but dangerous,” he says. “It's very shallow and near a reef break, so any mistake can be fatal.”

Medina's performance scored a victory over 11-time Association of Surfing Professionals (ASP) World Champion Kelly Slater. “Kelly Slater is the best in my sport, and to beat him in the final was a childhood dream,” says Medina, who started surfing when he was eight years old. “He has always been an example for me, and today I still learn a lot from him. It was certainly one of the best days of my life so far.”

Getting the Shot

“Gabby took off and literally air-dropped out of the sky,” recalls ASP photographer Kirstin Scholtz. “I wasn’t sure if he was going to make it, but then there he was, standing tall inside the barrel, and I knew it was going to be a good photo.”

Big waves create big spray. “When the waves are this big, they literally spit on you, shooting a cloud of spray though the barrel that feels like a rain shower,” says Scholtz. “You have to finish shooting the wave and then just as quickly cover your lens before the shower.”

Scholtz photographs the ASP tour throughout the year and was struck by the perfect conditions at Teaupho'o this year. “The elements need to align to create days like this, and it doesn’t happen very often. We were just so lucky to have perfect sunshine, hardly any wind, and a massive swell that made for buttery conditions with not a drop of water out of place. It was one of the best days of professional surfing the world has ever seen.”

Scholtz photographed with a Canon EOS-1D Mark IV and a 70-200mm f/2.8L IS II USM lens.

Riding Stevens Pass Bike Park, Washington

Photograph by Garrett Grove

Getting the Shot

“The vantage-point aerials seem to always be eye-catching," says photographer Garrett Grove, who made this picture at Stevens Pass Bike Park in Washington State. "It really isn't a view many people see often in their everyday lives. So when a good tree is nearby I always want to check it out.”

To protect the trees and get his shot, Grove used arborist and climbing gear to rig for the photo. “I am not a big fan of climbing with spikes due to the scars it leaves on trees, so I have done my best to use ropes and slingshots to access the canopy.”

Summer Skiing in the Beartooth Mountains, Montana

Photograph by Max Lowe

Getting the Shot

“When I saw this shot happening in my video feed, I knew I had to grab a few still shots as well,” recalls photographer and National Geographic Young Explorer Max Lowe, who filmed and photographed his 400-mile dirt-road trip with Brody Leven and Graeme MacPherson for our blog series "Montana by Dirt."

Local Beau Fredlund showed them how to find prime midsummer skiing in the Beartooth Mountains. Racing the afternoon storms, the trio was scouting for skiing options and filming the terrain. “We had scrambled up this pretty loose ridgeline to get at the chutes we were looking to ski and had topped out on a nice high point, where I was standing to shoot this,” says Lowe. Between the fleeting sunlight, Lowe captured this dramatic still in the Beartooth Mountains.

Throughout the trip Lowe was focused on video as well as stills and constantly sought balance between the two. “Shooting stills puts fire to my creative soul a little bit more, because for me I can recognize a beautiful and well-executed still image from the moment I take it.”

Lowe photographed with a Nikon D800 and a Nikkor 70-200mm, f/2.8 lens.

Stand-Up Paddleboarding Havasu Creek, Grand Canyon, Arizona

Photograph by Forest Woodward

“How could you not be blown away by that electric blue?” says Sara Butterfield, a Whitefish, Montana-based ski instructor and rafting guide pictured here stand-up paddleboarding in Havasu Creek. The 28-day Colorado River trip was her first time floating through the Grand Canyon. “It was great having the stand-up paddleboards with us—especially for instances like this where we could explore an amazing side canyon where rafts can’t go,” says Butterfield.

Getting the Shot

“It took me by surprise how vivid the water actually is in person,” recalls photographer Forest Woodward, who was traveling with his friends and father. His father had originally kayaked the river in 1970. Seeing Havasu Creek for the first time immediately enchanted the photographer, but the group continued downriver to set up camp for the evening. “As soon as we tied up the rafts, I set off, searching around for a perspective, knowing some of the crew was bound to explore the canyon with paddleboards,” says Woodward.

With a winter chill surrounding them, the group prepared with dry suits and Woodward decided the best perspective was above river level, even if that meant scrambling in a stiff dry suit.

“I was drawn to this particular spot because of the sense of scale it lends to the canyon and the richness of the colors. Lying on my stomach with the camera stretched out over the creek below, I was able to snap a few frames that I felt captured the sense of awe that we all experienced there,” says Woodward.

He photographed with a Canon EOS 5D Mark III and a 14mm, f/2.8 lens.

Climbing Biographie, Céüse, France

Photograph by Mikey Schaefer

Getting the Shot

“I could tell this shot was going to be amazing," recalls veteran adventure photographer Mikey Schaefer. "The location, the light, the color, and the climber were all perfect at the moment.”

Schaefer set out with German climber Alexander Megos in Céüse, France, a famous climbing destination, to capture a unique look at routes that have been photographed often. Here Megos is seen on Biographie (also known as Realization), one of the most famous sport climbs in the world. When Chris Sharma first climbed this route in 2001 after years of trying, it was considered possibly the hardest route known. In the summer of 2014, Megos ascended the route in four attempts over a single day.

“Neither of us just wants to makes photos for the sake of making photos. If I'm gonna get my camera out, I want to make a great photo and do it right. If Alex is going to go through the effort to work with a photographer, he wants to also do it right,” says Schaefer.

To get the shot, Schaefer was fixed to an anchor above Megos. Most of the time, Schaefer anchors a second rope to the ground, but in this case he wanted a unique angle, so he tied a rope directly underneath himself, then walked the rope out from the wall a couple hundred feet and anchored it, allowing himself to be 25 feet off the wall to photograph.

“I'd seen many other photos of this particular route and they all looked pretty similar. I wanted to try and do something different and the key to that was getting as far away from the wall as I could. I knew the farther away from the wall I could get the more pronounced the texture and streaks would become.”

Skiing Under the Aurora, Tombstone Range, Yukon, Canada

Photograph by Reuben Krabbe

“The trick with these images is that they're taken in complete darkness,” says skier Tobin Seagel, shown here in front of the northern lights in the Yukon's Tombstone Range. “The flash goes off for a fraction of a second—not long enough for your eyes to even notice. Imagine skiing into a line and you can't see anything!”

Seagel and photographer Reuben Krabbe departed from their base camp after a late dinner to capture this shot. “It took a lot of effort to put the boots back on in the cold after a long ski day and tour 45 minutes out to where we wanted to ski,” says Seagel, who lives in Squamish, British Columbia. The duo skied and shot for around three hours. Each attempt to capture the photo took around 40 minutes to set up. “Despite the minus 30ºC cold, it was easy to stay out under the aurora—one of the most indelible experiences I've ever had.”

Getting the Shot

“This single photograph of a skier and the aurora was the reason for a trip to these mountains,” says photographer Reuben Krabbe, who had been thinking about this photo for several years. “The Tombstone Mountains lie right underneath the ideal latitude for the aurora, so it offered a great place to try to capture this dream image.”

Just getting on location was a challenge. “When flying into the Tombstones our ski plane almost crashed, so we had to circle back to the airport, forcing us to walk for two days with 150 pounds of gear each. And when we finally got on the mountains, the avalanche conditions were terrifying,” says Krabbe.

Using long exposures, Krabbe constantly adjusted his lighting as the aurora light fluctuated. With a strobe set up below the skier’s mark, Krabbe was ready to trigger the strobe after a 20-second exposure, hoping Seagel would hit his mark while skiing practically blind in the dark.

The pair headed back to base camp at 2:30 a.m. thinking they didn't get the shot. It was only when Krabbe opened the file on his computer that he knew he’d captured the image he’d been hunting for years.

“I feel as though the chances of aligning all the factors—the aurora, clear skies, moonless night, south-facing perspective, aligning light levels when they are always changing, time of night, snow quality, and a skier—is like winning the lottery,” recalls Krabbe.

Krabbe photographed with a Nikon D700 and 17-35mm lens, along with two pocket wizards and an SB-800 Nikon strobe.

Summer Skiing on Mount Hood, Oregon

Photograph by Dan Sherwood

“I couldn't stop thinking about how cool the sunset was,” recalls skier Tommy Ellingson, seen here doing a 360 on the summer solstice at Mount Hood's Illumination Rock. At 9,543 feet, the skiing conditions were still decent. “The snow was really soft, but it was a bit faster than you would think for summer snow,” Ellingson says. As the light faded, the Brightwood, Oregon, resident did a few more jumps, packed up his gear, then headed home for some much needed dinner. “I ski roughly 200 days a year on Mount Hood," he says. "I can't get enough of this amazing mountain.”

Climbing the Great Arch, China

Photograph by Carsten Peter, National Geographic

“We all were absolutely shocked that this wall existed in nature!” recalls climber Matt Segal, seen here about 300 feet above the ground on the Nihao Wokepa route on the Great Arch in Getu, China. Segal, along with friends Emily Harrington and Cedar Wright, joined a National Geographic assignment with photographer Carsten Peter to investigate the region’s diverse karst rock formations for “Exploring China’s Caves” in the July edition of the magazine. “The climbing was very steep and physical—in fact, I think this is the most overhanging wall either Cedar or I has ever climbed.”

The protruding rock on the left side of the photo showcases one of the various rock formations they encountered—stalactites. “The majority of this climb was ‘wrestling’ with those stalactites!" says Segal. "Swinging from one to the next and wrapping your whole body around them is one of the most unique styles of climbing I’ve ever done."

Surfing the Wedge, California

Photograph by Benjamin C. Ginsberg

“This particular wave didn't have much of a shoulder on it and was more of a closeout, so I was just trying to get out of its way,” recalls local surfer Bobby Okvist. “I try to surf the Wedge as much as I possibly can,” says the Newport Beach, California, native and resident seen here surfing the break. “It's my home spot, so when we get the right swell, it's the first place I check when I wake up.”

“The Wedge is actually known as a bodysurfing and bodyboarding wave, but on the right days it's very surfable,” says Okvist, who says this was the biggest day of 2013 for the break. “Usually the bigger it gets, the better it is for surfing.”

Getting the Shot

“The Wedge is one of my favorite surf breaks for its size, ferocity, danger, and the sheer craziness of it all,” says photographer Benjamin Ginsberg. Having photographed the Wedge in the past, Ginsberg knew where to set up to get his shot and stay safe at the dangerous break. “I knew my best chance for a dramatic image would be down the beach at an extreme angle, using a long lens.

It proved to be the right decision, as I was able to get the shot of a larger, dramatically pitching wave with Bobby very close to shore, and without a crowd of people or a dozen little cameras on extended poles poking back up and out through the wave face."

With a gray “June gloom” forecast for the day, Ginsberg photographed under less than ideal conditions. “The low cloud cover made for significant background noise and low light levels. It was exceedingly difficult to set the camera shutter at a speed that would freeze motion without producing grainy images," he says. "Fortunately, when the water was as clear as it was that day, the contrast between the color of the breaking wave and steel gray sky helped create a striking composition."

Ginsberg photographed with a Nikon D300 and a Nikon 300mm, f/2.8 lens.

Climbing the Wendenstock, Interlaken, Switzerland

Photograph by Mikey Schaefer

Getting the Shot

“When we arrived at the parking lot, the face was completely in the clouds. We didn't really know how to get to the base,” recalls photographer Mikey Schaefer. Schaefer set out with climber Tommy Caldwell to tackle difficult routes in the Wendenstock area—pictured here is the Coelophysis route, rated 5.13c, in the Wendenstock crag. “The approaches in Wendenstock are pretty serious and fairly dangerous, so it took us some time to navigate to the start of the route safely. For a while, I didn't think we'd even be able to go climbing,” says Schaefer.

Luckily the weather was manageable, and the climbers set out to climb Coelophysis. “Thankfully for me, Tommy doesn't climb extremely fast. This gave me a lot of time to try different framing and angles. I had actually been struggling with the clouds most of the day, as they were so thick it was hard to see anything. I knew there was a chance I would get something really unique, but I wasn't getting my hopes up too high. An hour or so after I got this shot, it started to rain and we were all forced to go down,” says Schaefer. “I was a bit lucky—I got some shots in.”

Skiing the Grand, Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming

Photograph by Andy Bardon

“I think I'm on 17 or 18,” says Jimmy Chin of how many times he has skied the 13,776-foot Grand in the Tetons. “I lost count after 15 a couple years ago. There were a couple years while I was training to ski Everest when I would ski it three times a week.”

“I discovered and fell in love with skiing long before I started to climb. As a kid, I grew up skiing in jeans in Minnesota. Yup … I know … but I lived for it, and I still do,” says Chin, who now splits his time between Jackson, Wyoming, and New York City. “Jackson is totally incredible for skiing. Between the tram at Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, Teton Pass, and Grand Teton National Park, there is a lot of skiing to do—on piste, backcountry skiing, and ski mountaineering.”

“I was just stoked on life and to be up in the mountains with my friends,” recalls Chin of this moment. “It was a perfect day. We were all moving really well, comfortable with the terrain, and our timing was perfect. Conditions were great. I treasure and appreciate these kinds of moments more and more these days.”

Getting the Shot

“The biggest challenge while photographing this trip was just keeping up with Jimmy Chin. The dude is a beast,” recalls photographer Andy Bardon. Chin, known for his own stellar photography, was captured by Bardon in front of the camera this time. “This photo was made about 750 vertical feet below the summit of the Grand Teton. At this point we had climbed over ice bulges, bootpacked up steep couloirs, and ascended over 6,250 feet from the valley floor, so we were feeling it for sure,” says Bardon.

Bardon had never skied with Chin before but seized the moment: “Jimmy is such an ideal subject to photograph due to his technical mastery in the mountains. The guy is a ninja up there. Swift yet fluid, fast yet safe, and just cracking jokes the whole time. Frankly, I was just trying to keep up!”

Bardon photographed with a Canon 5D Mark III and a 16-35mm, f/2.8 lens.

Kayaking the Dudh Koshi, Nepal

Photograph by Ben Stookesberry

For veteran expedition kayaker Ben Stookesberry, an Adventurer of the Year who is known for running the world’s wildest whitewater, and up-and-coming Nepali kayaker Surjan Tamang (pictured), the original plan was to trek to Everest Base Camp and then check out the Dudh Kosi, a storied yet “tame” river fed from the meltwater of Everest’s infamous Khumbu Icefall and flowing among the giants of the Himalaya. Like all good adventures, things did not go according to plan. And the river was much more than they expected. “I can only describe it as Grand Canyon-size walls with giant Himalayan peaks stacked on top … you begin to feel pretty small on that river,” Stookesberry reflects.

Big-Wave Surfing at Teahupoo, French Polynesia

Photograph by Tim Mckenna

"The view I had right here was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen in my life," says surfer Koa Rothman of this moment in Teahupoo, French Polynesia. The photo won the Billabong XXL Tube Award. "Watching the lip land next to you, feeling the wave bend back behind you, seeing the boats in the channel go over the wave—being in the middle of all that energy is unexplainable," says the Hawaiian surfer, who started riding waves at age two with his father on Oahu's North Shore.

Rothman wiped out on this wave. "When I fell, I was sliding on my back for what felt like forever. The water felt like concrete when I hit it. Then this giant lip was landing next to my head, and I thought I was going to die. But as soon as it finally sucked me over, it was like a huge giant picked me up and shook me as hard as he could for 40 seconds under water, then let me up.

"It wasn't hard for me to get back into surfing big waves after that wipeout," Rothman reflects. "It just makes me really respect these waves and the people that surf them, because these waves could easily kill you."

Getting the Shot

“I knew it would be one of the biggest waves I have ever photographed—period,” says photographer Tim McKenna. “The conditions where similar to other big days at the break, apart from the fact that the lineup was very crowded with surfers and Jet Skis.” McKenna has photographed Teahupoo since 1996, and this wave was the largest he had photographed since Nathan Fletcher's big ride in 2011.

Equipped for the day, McKenna was ready for the giant swell. “It is important to be with a good boat captain who knows the break very well. I make sure all my main gear is protected in a waterproof case—you must be ready to jump on a Jet Ski or in the water if anything goes wrong.”

After McKenna reviewed his photos later in the evening, he shared the shot with Rothman. “I talked to Koa in the evening," he recalls. "He is a very mellow and humble surfer. He didn’t seem too phased about his ride, although the wipeout sure was violent. I think the surfers relive their rides differently once they see the view from the channel. I don’t think they realize how big the wave is behind them during the actual ride.”

McKenna photographed with Nikon bodies and lenses, including a 70-200mm f/2.8, a 24-70mm f/2.8, and a 14-24mm f/2.8.

Climbing in Yosemite, California

Photograph courtesy Jen Rapp

Adventurer Dean Potter and best friend, Whisper, a 22-pound mini cattle dog, climb Yosemite View with El Capitan and Half Dome in the distance. Taken on an evening in May 2013 by Potter's girlfriend, photographer Jen Rapp, the team climbed into position just as the sun was setting to capture the Yosemite Valley's last light washing over the inspiring views and landscape.

Potter and Whisper do many adventurers together, including climbing, biking, trail running, and even surfing. They also have a forthcoming film, When Dogs Fly, about their wing-suit flying adventures together.

Snowboarding the West Fjords, Iceland

Photograph by Jason Hummel

"It was so amazing riding 3,000 feet of steep terrain all the way to the Atlantic Ocean," says snowboarder Kyle Miller of this line overlooking town of Flateyri and running right to the sea—with perfect snow conditions. "It was something I will never forget."

"We could just drive around, see a line that grabbed our interest, park at the bottom, climb, then ride back to the car," says the pro splitboarder from Seattle. "Then repeat three times a day seven days a week. There are not many places in the world that provide such easy access to amazing terrain."

Getting the Shot

“I had a few goals in Iceland: Swim in a hot spring, and ski to the ocean,” says photographer Jason Hummel, who took this shot of snowboarderMiller. Hummel wanted to capture the scale and open waters of the Northern country.

“Each day we would climb two to 3,000 feet up any number of lines that surrounded the fjords. There were hundreds to choose from. We'd try and tackle a few a day. Unlike my home mountains in the Cascades, the access was incredibly convenient. Drive and scout your lines, then park and climb, then ski them. Perfect," recalls Hummel. “Standing on the ocean with sea weed and seagulls—skis still on my feet—was a real pleasure. You can't maximize your skiing any more than that! Snow doesn't go any lower.”

Hummel photographed with a Nikon D800 and a Nikon 16-35mm, f/4 lens.

Climbing Monserrat, Catalonia, Spain

Photograph by Sam Bié

Getting the Shot

“The fog adds another dimension—a mountain in the sky,” says photographer Sam Bié of getting this shot of climber José Agustí on La Joya de la Corona on Montserrat in Catalonia, Spain. “Montserrat is an iconic mountain that inspired many Spanish artists, including Gaudí—it’s a fantastic world. The main challenge is to observe and see the characteristics of the place.”

This route was actually Bié’s alternative plan. “The weather was too bad to go on a long and high route. And by chance, the fog came in at the right time and disappeared very quickly after,” he recalls. The swiftly moving fog became the biggest challenge of the shoot. “The fog was stable for one minute, and one second later the fog surrounded us. I crossed my fingers the sun didn’t appear because the fog would disappear very, very quickly.”

Surfing the Margaret River, Australia

Photograph by Kirstin Scholtz, ASP/Getty Images

Getting the Shot

Photographing in the late afternoon during Drug Aware Pro on Australia’s Margaret River, seven-year ASP World Tour vet Kristin Scholtz created this layered image of South African surfer Bianca Buitendag while battling the sun’s glare.

“While it yields great results with the backlight creating that beautiful green glow in the waves, it can pose challenges as the camera struggles to hold its focus,” says Scholtz, who shot from Surfer's Point. “Shooting from below the wave, rather than from above on the cliff, emphasizes the size of the wave and allows you to capture that beautiful backlight.”

One of the biggest challenges to shooting surfing on the Margaret River is the distance from the beach to the break—almost half a kilometer out to sea. To make up for the distance, Scholtz works with a long lens, including an extender for her 500mm lens.

Scholtz photographed with a Canon 1D Mark IV and a Canon f/2.8, 500mm lens with a f/1.4 extender.

Night Ice Climbing in the Cogne Valley, Western Alps, Italy

Photograph by Alexandre Buisse

"Climbing by night is an intimidating prospect: Will I find my protection and find the easiest line ... or make a bad decision due to the darkness?" says Canadian climber Jen Olson, seen ascending an icefall in the Cogne Valley of the Gran Paradiso region of the Italian Western Alps. Luckily, the route didn't have any unwelcome surprises. "I find that when I'm on snow or ice at night, the light is good enough to make good decisions. Everything else falls away, it's quiet and clear. Afterward, I tell myself, I should climb at night more often!"

Getting the Shot

“It is much more tricky for climbers to lead challenging ice by headlamp than daylight, so we all had to be careful to keep a big safety margin,” says adventure photographer Alexandre Buisse. The climb was assigned by Sports Illustrated, and Buisse knew the photo he wanted to capture. “I scouted this route a week prior and kept tabs on ice conditions and temperatures in the few days before the shoot,” he recalls.

Set up on a fixed line, Buisse was able to move up and down on pace with the climbers and shoot the various angles he had in mind. “This is the type of image I was really looking to shoot while planning. Everything else was bonus.”

Keeping the lighting simple, Buisse shot above the second pitch, below and to the side of the climbers. “I wanted to keep the lighting relatively simple, as logistics were very complicated, and it was impossible to reposition the flashes once I was up on the wall. For this particular image, I used a single studio strobe ten meters away from the base of the waterfall, equipped with a zoom reflector to focus the beam on the single area where the climber would be. I was careful to balance the power of the flash with the headlamps of the climbers,” says Buisse.

Backcountry Skiing Mount Superior, Wasatch, Utah

Photograph by Will Wissman

“A photographer's dream”—that’s how top ski photographer Will Wissman describes the day he made this picture with ski mountaineer Caroline Gleich. “I have skied Superior nearly a hundred times, and this day would be in the top three for snow conditions. It was deep, light, and stable.

“I contacted a few of my most trusted backcountry skiers for a Superior shoot, including Caroline. She is a seasoned pro with heavy avalanche safety credentials. I knew I could count on her to make the right decisions,” Wissman says, adding that this was of particular importance due to the treacherous conditions of the 2014 season.

As the two veterans worked their way down the mountain, a phenomenon revealed itself. “When it's cold with bluebird skies in the Wasatch, it’s a fairly typical phenomenon to see something I call the ‘sparkle effect.’ If you get the angle just right, you can capture it.” Shooting from the ridge of Superior, where he could capture the line Gleich choose, Wissman knew he had a dramatic angle.

“The sun was in the perfect location to make the ‘sparkles’ come to life," recalls Wissman. "The eastern flank of Superior was lit up while the base area of Snowbird was still shaded, giving the photo depth and contrast. I spent a total of 40 minutes navigating through deep snow and pepper rock in order to find my angle. As Caroline slid into my frame, I knew instantly we had nailed it.”

Surfing Peahi, North Shore, Maui, Hawaii

Photograph by Fred Pompermayer

"I try to surf every day," says local surfer Yuri Soledade, seen here on a 40-foot wave at Peahi, or Jaws, on Maui's North Shore. "This particular spot is where some of the biggest and most powerful waves in the world break. It's considered the proving grounds for big-wave surfing." The cliff at Pauwela Lighthouse and the West Maui Mountains rise in the distance.

Soledade has a lot of experience in big waves: He first surfed Peahi in 1999 and first paddled into the powerful break in 2004. "There is a lot of training and preparation before every season and session, but the goal is to push the limits but be safe at the same time," he says.

On this day, the weather was perfect. "Usually there is always wind and cloud cover," Soledade recalls. "But on this day we had no wind and not even one single cloud in the sky."

Getting the Shot

“Jaws is a such a raw place and the waves can get massive. It’s dangerous, even for those who are shooting or watching on the channel. You cannot mess around there,” says photographer Fred Pompermayer. Familiar with shooting at the turbulent break, Pompermayer decided to go outside of the safety channel to photograph.

“On this particular day, everything was perfect. I decided to try to get a different angle. I set myself up on the left side of the channel with the Jet Ski to capture the unique angle, getting close to the impact zone and framing the cliff in the background,” he recalls.

“When I saw Yuri Soledade paddling for that wave, I knew I was in a good spot for an incredible photo," Pompermayer says. "I love the composition of this photo. It’s the perfect big wave, with the surfer going right, and the Peahi cliff showing in the background.”

Pompermayer photographed with a Canon 1Dx and a 70-200mm, f/4 lens.

Climbing the Priest, Castle Valley, Utah

Photograph by Jeremiah Watt

Getting the Shot

“The Priest is an amazing formation in a stunning landscape,” says photographer Jeremiah Watt, who took this photo of climber Madaleine Sorkin on the Excommunication route of the Priest, a freestanding tower in Castle Valley, Utah. Watt had climbed in the area previously and was psyched to return to photograph for work. “The most surprising part of the climb is how short the route really is. It’s technically rated one of the hardest towers in the country and is wicked imposing from the base. But in reality it’s only three pitches of hard climbing with a short, moderate pitch to the summit,” recalls Watt.

To get the shot, Watt tied himself into an anchor about 20 feet above Sorkin and rappelled off the top of the route where it leaves the arête and moves right into a crack. “We bivied on the ledge below Castleton that night in horrendous wind, but this shoot went really smooth thanks to the hard work and camaraderie of the crew.”

Watt photographed with a Nikon D800 and f/4,16-35mm lens. Find more of Watt’s photography on Instagram.

Kayaking Spirit Falls, Little White Salmon River, Washington

Photograph by Eric Parker

“Snowflakes were sticking to my eyelashes and blurring my vision throughout the day,” recalls kayaker Todd Wells, seen here running Spirit Falls on the Little White Salmon River. “So one final time before the falls, I made sure to clear my face of any accumulated snow. Paddling class V rivers in sub-freezing temperatures is never very comfortable, but as soon as my hands become numb the cold doesn't bother me as much.”

The Washington State native wore two full-body fleece suits to stay extra warm, and an Immersion Research dry suit to keep dry. Having first run this waterfall when he was 14, Wells has now descended its roiling class V rapids about a hundred times. “Paddling these waterfalls is risky and avoiding injuries is always on my mind,” says Wells, who now lives in White Salmon, Washington. “But I think that becoming comfortable on a variety of different smaller waterfalls has been the best way to stay safe on the bigger and more challenging drops.

“Spirit Falls is my favorite backyard waterfall,” he says. “For a solid class V paddler, Spirit is just about an hour's paddle from an easily accessible bridge, but spectators must scurry down a poison oak infested scree field to access the falls.”

Getting the Shot

“I get anxious when I know there is an opportunity to capture something amazing,” says photographer Eric Parker. Parker has run and photographed the rapids on Little White Salmon River for years, but typically, the scene is not snow covered.

“Generally you feel as if you are paddling through a green tunnel among the lush forest. That day, temperatures dropped and eight inches of fresh snow fell along the banks of the river," he says. "We put on the water and I was immediately overwhelmed by the beauty of the winter wonderland."

As the team headed down the river, Parker kept in mind not only his framing, but his gear, too. “The cloud cover was very thick this day, the light was soft, and it was incredibly wet. I knew that I had to be very careful with my exposure and my equipment. My lens cloth was already drenched at this point in the day, and I resorted to using a backup cotton t-shirt that I keep in my dry bag to clean my lens," he says. "Thankfully, I was able to dry the lens off in time and set my exposure as Todd paddled into the waterfall. And, in the back of my mind, there was some nervousness knowing that I was going to pack my camera up and run the falls next!”

Bouldering on Oahu, Hawaii

Photograph by Ryan Moss

“We found this boulder after being tipped off by a local hiker,” recalls Justin Ridgely, owner of the Volcanic Climbing Gym in Honolulu, Hawaii. “It's a short scramble through the jungle up a pig trail. The boulder is about 14 feet tall, and the problem [the path that a climber takes] is called ‘All Boars Go to Heaven.’” This spot, which is known as Boarlomana, is canopied by a large banyan tree and surrounded by bamboo. “We shot this in the afternoon … the jungle is thicker there, which gives it that eerie light,” Ridgely says.

“I spend a lot of time climbing and exploring Oahu and the outer islands,” he says. “I've spent the past four years here developing the bouldering with the rest of the local climbing community. We've gone from two areas to about 44 in that time. The bouldering scene here is amazing, and the aloha spirit is very present in the climbing community.”

Getting the Shot

“I was standing on a tree with angry ants crawling all over me and was about 50 feet up in the air,” recalls photographer Ryan Moss. Moss found himself balanced precariously in the tree above the Boars Nest bouldering area, after Ridgely convinced him to take a break from editing for some climbing and photographing.

“There was a tree next to the boulder, and I was trying to get some new perspectives and angles,” Moss says. “I climbed the tree, but as I was doing so, realized I was walking through six major ants’ nests as I was climbing up the branches. The actual spot where I shot this photo from had the biggest ant nest of the six.”

The boulder is situated in a dark location in the bamboo forest, so Moss added light to make sure his fight with the ants was worth it. “I used an on-board flash in order to help with the lighting. All the other photos I shot that day turned out pretty average because of all the light being filtered through the forest. I was happy that this one turned out.”

Moss photographed with a Canon 7D and a 10-17mm lens.

Skiing Jackson Hole's Sidecountry, Wyoming

Photograph by Jay Goodrich

“Once I popped the takeoff, I remember thinking ‘knuckles to buckles’ and then my mind went blank,” recalls local skier Hadley Hammer of this cliff most commonly called Smart Bastard in the Jackson Hole Ski Resort sidecountry. “Athletes always talk about the flow, or that moment when everything is still … and that was certainly one of those moments. The three seconds or so that I was in the air felt like three minutes.”

A trio of skiers, including Hammer, Jess McMillan, and Bryce Newcomb, was exploring the Tetons backcountry when they decided to scout the snowpack on this line. “The area above was littered with sharky rocks and sugary snow, which made it less conducive to skiing fluidly into the air.” Fortunately, the area had received nearly daily snowfall for a month. “I volunteered to go first,” Hammer recalls. “I went in with more speed than I needed and passed the ideal transition spot, but the snow was soft and the landing gentle."

Getting the Shot

“When Hadley dropped the line, I believe there was a four-letter expletive shouted amongst the whole group that had gathered,” recalls photographer Jay Goodrich. “It was the biggest air that I have personally photographed. Hadley is one of only six women to ever ski this line.”

To get the shot, Goodrich positioned himself in a relatively easy-to-access spot. “I chose that area because it allowed me to capture the whole face and illustrate how immense it truly is,” he recalls. Photographing under the first sunny sky in almost a month, Goodrich adjusted for the shadows cast on the line. “I needed an exposure that would allow me to get detail in both the shadows and the highlights once I got the image into Adobe’s Lightroom,” says Goodrich. “I knew from experience that as soon as Hadley left the takeoff she was headed into the shade, so capturing shadows that weren’t black was very important. I was lucky in that snow reflects so much sunlight reflecting into the shadows, which helped my exposure.

“Hadley is a very accomplished skier, so I wasn’t surprised at all that she was going for it. Her speed and lack of any hesitation at which she skied the line—it’s not everyday that you see someone step up to something that big and treat it like they own it,” Goodrich says.

Goodrich photographed with a Canon 1DX camera and Canon EF 70-200mm, f/4L IS USM lens, with a 1.4x version III teleconverter.

Kayaking the Mekong River, Laos

Photograph by Ben Stookesberry

Getting the Shot

“The moment that I savor most in kayaking in extreme places is the one that is captured here. We're well beyond the point of no return, where the anticipation, excitement, and anxiety of the outcome meld into a singular focus and you become totally absorbed in the moment,” says kayaker and photographer Ben Stookesberry. Stookesberry, one of our previous Adventurers of the Year, was part of the expedition with Chris Korbulic (pictured) and Pedro Oliva to explore the Mekong River in Laos.

Stookesberry set up the framing for the photo and ran a one-second time-lapse while positioning himself at the base of the falls to support Korbulic in case anything went wrong. “Pedro and I followed Chris into this maelstrom soon after the camera captured this photo," he recalls. "Then the scariest hour of our 12 days on the Mekong began as we paddled eight kilometers to the nearest village of Hang Khon, Laos.”

The trio battled fishing lines strewn throughout the river that often harm native local wildlife. “The river here is infested with countless fishing lines and nets that could have easily ensnared and drowned us that night. Luckily, we made it through this gauntlet, but the freshwater Irrawaddy dolphin has not been so lucky,” says Stookesberry.

Stookesberry photographed with a Panasonic Luminex DMC-GH3 and a f/4.0, 14-140mm lens.

Mixed Climbing a New Route in Helmcken Falls, British Columbia, Canada

Photograph by Christian Pondella, Red Bull Content Pool

“The waterfall is both the reason for the incredible spray ice and the main problem in that it sometimes sprays you,” recalls Will Gadd, the prolific climber, paraglider, and kayaker seen here who is always pushing the boundaries of his sports. Gadd is making the first ascent of Overhead Hazards, which he calls the hardest mixed climbing route in the world, located in the ice-climbing wonderland of Helmcken Falls, British Columbia. “I have never been as cold as I was on this climb,” says the Canadian, who lives in Canmore, Alberta. "It was just brutal."

“All the mist would instantly turn to ice on you, your camera gear, and the ropes,” recalls photographer Christian Pondella. Pondella has photographed many times with Gadd at Helmcken Falls, but this time the conditions were harsh. With temperatures dipping below minus 30ºC at night and only rising to minus 20º during the day, the duo faced extreme cold. “Working in those temperatures was incredibly challenging; just to stay warm, you had to constantly be moving,” says Pondella.

Familiar with the location and route, Pondella knew the shot he wanted, where the route finishes right next to the waterfall. “I knew that the shot was going to be looking down on Will, with a wide-angle lens showing the immense power of the waterfall and the big void below. To get his photo, Pondella rappelled in from the top of the cave about 15 meters. "It put me into the perfect spot to really capture the enormity of the waterfall and location. It also had me hanging pretty far from the edge of the wall because of how overhung the route was.” A seasoned and top industry photographer, even Pondella couldn’t avoid battling the elements while hanging in position. Dangling from his rope, Pondella thought to himself, Please don’t spin in circles! "Plus, I constantly had to keeping wiping the mist off my lens and the eyepiece of my camera so I could get a clean shot.”

Snowboarding in the Himalaya, Nepal

Photograph by Andrew Miller

Getting the Shot

"I think this is probably the highest and burliest spine line ever done on a snowboard," says photographer Andrew Miller. Miller had met snowboarder Jeremy Jones, one of our Adventurers of the Year, two weeks earlier while testing snowboards in Chile. Soon after, Miller heard from Jones. "I got a call from Jeremy asking if I had any interest in a trip to Nepal because a spot might open up. A few days later, he called back to see if I was still serious about going. And a few days after that, he called to tell me the spot was mine if I wanted it. I said 'yes.' "

During the 40-day expedition to try to ride two new lines above 20,000 feet in the Everest region of Nepal for his forthcoming film Higher, Jones's production crew mapped out and reconned several different options and angles on the glacier for shooting the wall, as well as the safest spots. "I setup two still cameras for two different options to make sure I nailed the shot and had photos to choose from—we knew this trip would be one, maybe two lines ridden total," recalls Miller. "I was shooting from a barbie angle, adjacent to the spine wall. We had to scramble up a rock face to the toe of the glacier, put our crampons on, and rope up for a three-hour walk across a broken glacier to set up our angle at 18,500 feet."

Knowing that the mountains might not be climbable or ridable, Miller and the team weren’t sure what they would encounter. "The snow conditions went from full Alaskan powder spines to rock-hard, sun-baked, barely edgeable snow in two days. This made the final descent pretty tough, and you can see the in the photo that Jeremy is just barely off belay, snowboarding with an ice axe in hand," says Miller.

Kayaking Waterfalls in Chiapas, Mexico

Photograph by Alfredo Martinez, Red Bull Content Pool

"This drop is actually tricky, as the entrance is absolutely blind," recalls kayaker Rafael Ortiz of this moment on Bolom Ajau, a series of five drops accessed from Agua Azul, a tourist site in Chiapas, Mexico. "You gotta trust a sequence of waves and finally a last curling one that will put you in the right spot."

Ortiz dropped this 30-foot fall, then had a few seconds to figure out where he was before the next 50-foot drop. "It's of huge importance to be there with someone you trust 100 percent," Ortiz says, and in this case he was with his brother, Isidro, both from Mexico. "This is a special place to kayak because of the adventure it takes, the fact you are in the core of Zapatistan lands, the difficulty and character of the drops and, of course, the turquoise color of the water," Ortiz says.

Climbing Cliffbase, Hvar, Croatia

Photograph by Emily Polar

Getting the Shot

“I knew I had the photo when Kori Maughmer’s arm was out—it was the perfect spot in relation to the pitch of my camera and her position on the rock,” says photographer Emily Polar. Polar joined four friends traveling and climbing in Croatia.

With a local friend and guide, Polar scouted Cliffbase, a climbing center on the island of Hvar, before the climb. “I knew sunset was the best time to shoot this location, so I scouted and saw that the profile of this particular route would be the best to capture the shape of Kori’s body against the ocean, and in such a stunning environment,” recalls Polar. “When Kori was shaking her arm out, I knew it would define her body and give more energy to the photo, so I was really excited that she took a break for those couple of seconds.”

Polar captured her photo just in time. “Right after I got the shot, the route started to move behind the corner and I lost sight of the climber. So I was really glad that up until that point I could see her profile perfectly.”

Skiing Mount Superior, Utah

Photograph by Jay Beyer

“It's always a challenge to wake up and climb in the dark, but the glow of sunrise makes it all worthwhile. These are the moments I live for,” says Utah-based, big-mountain skier Caroline Gleich of this moment on the south ridge of Mount Superior in the Wasatch Mountains. She and her climbing partner, Nate Smith, had bootpacked up the couloir to gain the ridge, then skied down Suicide Chute. “The snow inside the chute was surprisingly smooth, chalky, and carveable,” recalls Gleich, who is building up her ski mountaineering skills. “The wind tends to buff out the snow within the line, keeping it in good shape, while the rest of the south face of Superior was the texture of frozen coral reef.”

“I love the quiet stillness—it's one of the few times in the day I find true mindfulness,” says the skier, who has been seen ripping on the cover of every ski magazine, including Powder. "Of course, I find the same Zen focus and mindfulness on the way down, but there's something special about the way up. It's slower and allows you to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, especially on an exposed ridge line like this one.”

Getting the Shot

“The sunrise was amazing that morning,” says photographer Jay Beyer. After a slow winter in Utah, Beyer headed out with Gleich and Smith to cut fresh tracks and capture this photo. “I had this shot in mind, and that's why we woke up at 4 a.m. to go out on a little adventure," he says. “It hadn’t snowed in the last two weeks, so we were just out looking for some decent snow to ski."

With a brilliant sunrise chasing them, Beyer shot all day, but knew this was his image of the session. “This was the height of the sunrise, and so I had a feeling this would be one of the best photos.”

Beyer photographed with a Canon 1Dx and a Canon 24-70mm, f/2.8 lens.

Snowboarding Near Zermatt, Switzerland

Photograph by Tero Repo

Getting the Shot

“I really love moments when nothing is planned and then moments later you have captured something great,” says photographer Tero Repo. Repo has been photographing in Zermatt, Switzerland, frequently over the past few years, working with local guide and skier Samuel Anthamatten and pioneering snowboarder Xavier De Le Rue. “I think every time we shoot near Zermatt with Xavier and Samuel, we get good results,” Repo says.

"This was one of those lines that just happened without a reason. The boys thought that it was good idea to hit that couloir. A few minutes after, I was shooting it. The next step was to shoot from a heli,” where Repo captured this photograph.

“My first thought was, Really? But knowing Xavier, I was comfortable to watch him through my camera,” recalls Repo. The terrain was Repo’s biggest challenge, and he managed balancing the line’s exposure, which was variable due to seracs overhanging the couloir. “It is hard to fight against Mother Nature, and you know you will lose that battle if you are not careful.”

Repo photographed from a helicopter with a Canon 5D Mark III and a 28-70mm, f/2.8 lens.

Ice Climbing Fearful Symmetry, Canadian Rockies, Alberta

Photograph by Forest Woodward

Getting the Shot

"When we arrived at the base of the pillar, there was another group with us who took one look and decided, 'No thanks, that's above our pay grade,' " recalls photographer Forest Woodward, who took this shot of ice climber Graham Zimmerman in the Canadian Rockies of Alberta. "I actually wasn't aware of the ephemeral nature of the Fearful Symmetry route until we arrived in Canmore. Everyone spoke of it with a sort of reverence," says Woodward.

The group tackled a rough drive in Ghost Valley to make it to an area called Recital Hall, where this rare, icy route had formed. “I understood immediately why the route commands such respect," Woodward recalls.

The team faced a tough climb in, and Woodward fought snow devils coating his gear in fine, frozen snowy dust. “The added challenge of managing gear in inhospitable elements is part of what makes ice climbing such a niche sport,” says Woodward.

After his initial awe, Woodward was ready to photograph. “Once the actual climbing began, I brought all my focus to bear, trying to capture Graham's experience in a single image that would tap into the emotions he experiences as a climber on a pitch like this,” says Woodward.

Free Climbing the Totem Pole, Tasmania, Australia

Photograph by Simon Carter

Australian climbers Doug McConnell (leading) and Dean Rollins (belaying) are seen on the Totem Pole, a slender 215-foot-high dolerite column that has long fascinated rock climbers. Located at Cape Hauy on the Tasman Peninsula, it is tucked between the Candlestick, a 361-foot-high island (to the left) and the mainland.

“We initially went out because it was the 40th anniversary of the first ascent in 1968 by the legendary John Ewbank and thought it would be fun to repeat his aid route,” recalls Rollins. “It is an amazing piece of rock, and the climbing is of a high quality and quite committing in nature. No one had free climbed the Totem Pole by this route before—when we realized we could do it, despite our injuries, it gave us even more motivation.”

The pair spent 15 days working on the route over several months. Just getting to the spire involved a hilly, two-hour hike and nearly 200-foot rappel to the base of the spire. Once there, the Southern Ocean dished out some pretty challenging weather.

“One of the reasons it took us so long was that conditions were often not ideal. Some days were very, very windy. And on others the rock was damp and seeping, so we wouldn't make much progress,” recall Rollins. “And if the swell is up and you're close to the water level, every now and then a wave will smack you.”

Getting the Shot

The slender Totem Pole has been part of photographer Simon Carter’s life since 1994. “I’ve spent more than 20 days photographing climbers on the Totem Pole. I was keen to photograph Doug and Dean because their ascent of the original Ewbank Route was the first really new thing to be achieved on the Totem Pole in many years,” says Carter.

To get his shot, Carter rappelled 30 meters from the cliff opposite the climbers. “I had in mind to try some different compositions and came up with this,” he recalls. In addition to standard climbing gear, Carter uses a chest harness. “I can lean right out on the rappel rope and still hold the camera steady.”

Though Totem Pole offers an ideal location for incredible images, photographers battle lighting in the area. “It still surprises me how small the window of light is on the Totem Pole," says Carter. "No sooner than the shadow from the Candlestick is gone, then the shadow from the mainland (see on the right) starts to creep across the Totem Pole. Climbers can only move so fast, and there can easily be delays, so it always feels like a bit of luck when it all comes together."

Carter photographed with a Nikon D3 and a f/2.8, 14-24mm f2.8 lens.

Deepwater Soloing the Musandam Peninsula, Oman

Photograph by Jimmy Chin

Getting the Shot

“In some ways, shooting someplace new is great because you see everything fresh and with new eyes,” says photographer Jimmy Chin. Chin, on assignment for National Geographic magazine, photographed climbers Alex Honnold (pictured) and Hazel Findlay as they put up new deepwater soloing routes on the knife-edge seaside cliffs along the Musandam Peninsula, Oman. See the story, "Impossible Rock," in the January 2014 issue.

Chin had photographed Honnold climbing in Yosemite for a previous assignment for National Geographic, but this story was on a much tighter time line. “I had a lot more time to shoot the Yosemite story, and I was also much more familiar with the area," Chin recalls. "I had less than three weeks to shoot the Oman story, which isn't a lot of time to shoot a feature story, especially when I'm going to a completely new and remote area. It's great to shoot a place you know well, but I also love the challenge of showing up to a place I've never been and diving straight in."

To get this photo of Honnold, Chin positioned himself on a ledge to the side of where Honnald was climbing. “I knew the light was amazing and that I better nail the shot. I wasn't sure if Alex was going to be able to get out to the same point again,” he says. “I had imagined a shot like this, but got really lucky to get the perfect light and cool body position. Alex contorted and strained every muscle in his body to keep himself on the route.”

Stand-up Paddleboarding Jaws, Hawaii

Photograph by Richard Hallman

Getting the Shot

“Things at Jaws happen so fast, I wasn't sure it was even Kai taking off on the wave until my Skidoo driver pointed and said, ‘Kai Lenny,’ ” recalls surf photographer Richard Hallman. “I focused my attention on the wave because I knew he was riding stand-up and even though the wave was small for Jaws, it was big for stand-up. He had a spectacular air drop.”

Lenny dropped into the wave, and Hallman continued to photograph the 20-foot ride until Lenny fell. “I knew right away with the few last frames in my camera that it was a particularly bad fall. My biggest concern at this point was his safety.”

Rescue Jet Skis rushed to help when Lenny resurfaced, and Hallman noticed Lenny’s foot was bleeding. “I immediately took a photo with my 70-200mm zoom camera—the zoom allowed me to see the severity of the cut. My experience as a former trauma nurse told me that this was a particularly bad cut,” he says.

“Nothing about big waves is routine. I think that is the why big-waving surfing is such a draw for me," Hallman continues. "It is daunting and challenging as a surfer and as a photographer. It truly is otherworldly to be pressed against the edge of so much energy and to watch these modern-day gladiators drop down these mountains of water.”

Climbing Superfortress, Near Vail, Colorado

Photograph by Celin Serbo

"I was completely engaged in the climbing, not thinking, not doing, just being," says climber Will Mayo of his second ascent of Superfortress, a very difficult mixed ice and rock climbing route near Vail, Colorado. "Yet when the partially formed icicle of the Fang collapsed beneath my feet, the whoosh of air and the corresponding cacophony of about ten tons of icicle shattering a hundred feet below instantly snapped my mind back to the situation beyond the climb." Worried about the people below, Mayo recalls yelling, "Are you OK?" There was no immediate response so he yelled again. "My girlfriend yelled up that she and everyone else were okay. I realized afterward that because the amphitheater overhangs by about 50 feet, the ice had fallen well out and downhill from where they all were belaying and watching.

"One of the other routes I have established in Vail I named as a tribute to my late Great-Uncle Tom, who was a copilot of a Flying Fortress, the nickname for the B-17, with the U.S. Army Air Corps in World War II. He was shot down in occupied France and survived," says Mayo. "The double entendre is that the amphitheater seems fortress-like and the widely spaced bolts provide opportunity for flying-like falls. Superfortress, which is the nickname for the B-29, seemed like a logical next route as it crossed my first route. I named it before the Fang collapsed, yet it seems very appropriate considering that the amount of ice that fell like a bomb likely weighed about as much as the plane's bomb load capacity."

Getting the Shot

“I turned around to see the entire pillar fracture about eight inches below Will's feet,” says photographer Celin Serbo. “I guess it's the classic case of when to put the camera away. Will had just pulled through the final ice section, and I could only see his feet. I started packing away my camera and preparing to rappel down when I heard a deep crack. Everything was in slow motion as I watched the entire pillar come down—it was like something out of a movie.”

The dramatic end to Mayo’s climb on the Fang occurred after Serbo photographed Mayo climbing the difficult route. “This climb is way above my climbing limits. On Will's 'warm up' lap he trailed a static line, which he fixed at the top anchor for me,” recalls Serbo. “I wanted to be close enough to Will at the routes crux while still giving a sense of place. It is a pretty aesthetic amphitheater.”

Serbo photographed with a Nikon D800 and a 16-35mm, f/4 lens.

Snowboarding the Pemberton Ice Cap, British Columbia

Photograph by Mark Gribbon

“Being in the backcountry is where I belong and am the most happy,” says snowboarder Joel Loverin, seen here on the Pemberton Ice Cap in British Columbia, Canada, during a three-day backcountry camping and riding excursion.

“Compared to the other lines I rode on the trip, this one was a lot more relaxed, but the end result for the photograph came out a lot better than the others,” recalls Loverin, who is based in Whistler. “I’m drawn to the freedom and isolation of being way out in the mountains and being submersed in terrain that is always changing. I love the adventure and endless exploration possibilities and the quiet serenity of it all.”

Getting the Shot

“The cold nights would turn the snow into a sheet of ice, then we would have to wait until the afternoon for the snow to soften up to ride anything,” recalls photographer Mark Gribbon, who was on assignment for Snowboard Canada magazine when he got this shot.

Gribbon faced tough weather conditions—for both snowboarding and photographing. Toward the end of the session, Gribbon captured this image. “At the end of the season, the sun is pretty high in the sky, which makes for less dramatic photos. It is a balance trying to find decent snow with a feature that is ridable this time of year,” he says. “The ice and shade kept the surrounding snow rideable at such a late hour in the day.”

Gribbon photographed with a Canon Mark IV and a 70-200mm, f/2.8 lens.

Climbing Hallucinogen Wall, Black Canyon, Colorado

Photograph by John Dickey

Getting the Shot

“I had never even seen the Black Canyon before this climb. Turns out the Black is infamous for a reason,” says photographer John Dickey, who joined climber Josh Wharton on Hallucinogen Wall in Colorado's Black Canyon. “I've been shooting on big walls for over a decade and when I first stepped over the edge, it took me a minute to get my head right before continuing.

“I knew the Black had some pretty difficult lighting, so I went prepared with gradient filters and a strobe. Once I rappelled in and saw the lighting situation, I put away the filters and milked the contrast for all I could. I toyed with balancing the light using filters and in the end stuck with the high contrast,” he recalls.

In order to get the shots he wanted of Wharton, Dickey started climbing at 4 a.m. His goal was to get a head start on Wharton and then begin the long rappel at around 6:45 a.m. to intersect on the wall a few hundred feet off the ground. Dickey had his lighting and climbing thoroughly planned, but serious routes can give pause even to the most prepared. “The biggest challenge of the day was at the start—those first minutes stepping over the edge of the wall. Whenever I get intimidated like that I focus on the task at hand: Check the harness, make sure the carabiner on my belay device is locked, double check camera batteries, and move on.”

Dickey photographed with a Canon 6D and carried a lens.

Mountain Biking Book Cliffs Near Green River, Utah

Photograph by Jay Beyer

"I was grinning ear to ear from the amount of fun I was having and just starting to plan where I would need to get on the brakes before hitting the steep trench left by runoff at the bottom of this line," recalls pro skier Carston Oliver of this moment at sunset in Book Cliffs, Utah, an increasingly popular mountain biking destination.

"The terrain at Book Cliffs is very complex, with lots of folds, spines, and rolls to explore and play on. This area has the full spectrum of riding options, from supermellow to outright death-defying and everything in between," says Oliver, who left Salt Lake City at 4 a.m. to drive three hours with photographer Jay Beyer to Green River. They took a dirt road to Book Cliffs, where they earned each descent by either pedaling or hiking up with the bikes on their backs. "In essence, it looks and feels like backcountry skiing, but without the risk of avalanches."

Getting the Shot

“The terrain is what I would think the moon would look like, if you were to ever bike on the moon,” recalls photographer Jay Beyer, who was photographing in Book Cliffs for the first time.

“It was getting toward sunset and Carston was showing me some lines that he thought looked cool from the last time he was there," says Beyer. "I saw these lines getting last light in the background. We lined them up and he rode four different lines, all at last light. It worked out perfectly!” The two work together often, mostly on skiing shoots. “Biking is so much easier to shoot than skiing. You don't have to worry constantly about avalanches, and that is pretty awesome. The temps are nice too!”

Beyer photographed with a Canon 1D X and a Canon 70-200mm, f/2.8 lens.

Ice Climbing in Hyalite Canyon, Montana

Photograph by Jason Thompson

“Winter Dance does not form every year, and it's extremely difficult. For those reasons it's seen very few ascents,” says climber Whit Magro, seen here on the third pitch of the challenging route in the main fork of Hyalite Canyon, a classic ice-climbing destination outside of Bozeman. “I had just after passed through the scariest part of the route and was happy to see a good rest spot approaching ahead.”

“This volcanic rock may look beautiful, but it's terrible, unconsolidated, loose, and scary to climb on,” says Magro, who lives in Bozeman and has been ice climbing for 15 years. “It’s one of the reasons why this route is so demanding.”

“Ice climbing is one of the most wild mediums of climbing that can be done,” says Magro. “It has a high level of adventure due to its unpredictability and it's dynamic nature.”

Getting the Shot

Recently, photographer Jason Thompson and climbers Magro and Adam Knoff set out to link two difficult routes together—Winter Dance and the Big Sleep—in Hyalite Canyon. “This day was meant to figure out how to get from the top of either climb to the top of the next climb, which involves a lot of terrain to cover,” says Thompson.

“Whit and Adam were moving really quickly and efficiently on the first climb of the day, Winter Dance. Spirits were high and the decision to give the link-up a go was made,” recalls Thompson.

Thompson shot from a ridge running parallel to Winter Dance. “Whit's climbing is very smooth and fluid. It’s great to watch through my lens,” says Thompson. “Reaching the top of Winter Dance and still having the stoke to continue the journey along the ridge over to the Big Sleep was inspiring. It was a great day in the mountains.”

Thompson photographed with a Canon 7D and a Canon f/3.5, 28-200mm lens.

Winter Surfing in Cook Inlet, Alaska

Photograph by Scott Dickerson

"I would say that surfing up here is not very popular," says Homer, Alaska, local Gart Curtis, seen here rushing back to the truck, with his friend Mike in the distance, after a winter surf session 30 minutes outside of town. "The conditions are fickle. Weeks can go by without waves. It's rare that the number of guys in the water exceeds single digits—and we know each other."

Curtis and his friends were navigating large, broken up pieces of ice formed by packed snow on the shore that gets soaked, refrozen, and then broken by the waves and tide. "They are a bit tricky, but it is faster to go along on top of them than to slog and weave through the heavy snow in between," Curtis recalls.

Gearing up to surf in Alaska's biting cold is critical. "You can still feel the cold through the wetsuit, but luckily it's warmer in the water than on the beach. I'm wearing a 6/5/4 wetsuit, with 7mm booties and mitts. I'm also wearing a thermal rashguard and neoprene trunks," Curtis says. "Some guys use battery-powered, heated tops, but I don't have one. And a couple of the guys I surf with put vaseline on their faces to block the wind on the really cold windy days … I might try that sometime."

"Hunting for breaks is a big part of the fun," Curtis says. "Even finding a new sand bar a few hundred yards from a known spot, or a spot suddenly working at a different tide than what worked last season—that's a thrill."

Getting the Shot

“It was just above zero degrees, windy, snowing, and pretty dark outside,” says photographer and surfer Scott Dickerson. “There was no practical way that I could have photographed from the water given the conditions. The current was going much faster than I could swim, and there were large chunks of ice floating through the surf that would have been even more dangerous to me, considering my lack of mobility swimming with the camera.”

The surfers drove along the Alaskan coast, looking for waves that could be surfed at Cook Inlet. While watching his friends attempt to surf, Dickerson fought the extreme weather on the beach. “The beach was a sloped sheet of ice that made it incredibly difficult to get out of the water because it required you to scramble uphill over wet ice between the surging waves,” recalls Dickerson. “I had to be careful to keep the camera lens protected, while also having to run through thigh-deep snow to keep up with Mike and Gart as they drifted down the beach in the strong current.”

Ice Climbing in Zirknitzgrotte, Austria

Photograph by Martin Lugger

Getting the Shot

“At the time it was very questionable to climb this ice rock because of the danger that it would break and crash—along with the climber,” says photographer and climber Martin Lugger. After climber Peter Ortner (pictured) told Lugger about the location in Zirknitzgrotte, Austria, the two went to scout and climb. Lugger immediately knew he wanted to light the scene with strobes. “When we came there, I knew I wanted make some shots with flashes. Although it's dangerous because of falling ice, the area is very nice for lighting.”

Lugger set up the photo he wanted to capture. “I have no standard lighting because every scene needs to be adjusted differently,” he says. “I imagined this frame when I planned my setup and lights. I had three main angles in mind and two of them worked out for me."

For this shot, Lugger lit the scene with a Hensel Studio strobe and blue gel. He also used another strobe to brighten the climber. “The biggest challenge during the shoot was to not get hit by falling ice, and not to slip on the ice with my Hasselblad in my hands.”

Kayaking the Rio Santo Domingo, Chiapas, Mexico

Photograph by Marcos Ferro, Red Bull Content Pool

"This is a shot of the last drop off in the big canyon of the Rio Santo Domingo," recalls kayaker Rafael Ortiz of this moment on the steepest known kayakable whitewater sequence in the world, found in Chiapas, Mexico. "I was feeling totally stoked and high-energy when dropping the last 50 feet." This section of the river, which carves a path near the Guatemala border, tumbles over the rocks at an average slope of 1,900 feet per mile.

Ortiz, Rush Sturges, and Evan Garcia ran the full sequence of falls—dropping 80 feet, 80 feet, 20 feet, 70 feet, 20 feet, and then these last 50 feet—which had been a longtime goal for Ortiz. "Just for Angel Wings, the first and most savage drop, you have to count 100 percent on your team if anything goes wrong."

"I've been to this river every year since kayaker Ben Stookesberry showed it to me six years ago," recalls Ortiz. "And I've always dreamed about doing every single one of the drops in one day. It's the ultimate thrill. You can paddle every single one of the drops in less than three minutes—it's insane!"

Mountain Biking in Virgin, Utah

Photograph by Christian Pondella, Red Bull Content Pool

"I was thinking about a lot of things at this moment, but most important, where and how I was going to land," recalls mountain biker Brandon Semenuk of the moment captured in this photo. He's seen catching some big air in a canyon gap during the three-day Red Bull Rampage competition held in Virgin, Utah, in October 2013. Semenuk, who lives in the mountain biking hub of Squamish, British Columbia, would drop about 30 feet to land near the tire track seen at the bottom left of the photo.

"The Rampage is one of the craziest mountain bike contests out there," Semenuk, a third-time competitor, says. "The fact that you get to build whatever you'd like to ride is what makes it interesting to me."

Getting the Shot

An eight-year veteran of the annual Red Bull Rampage, photographer Christian Pondella is familiar with creating unique photos at the crowded event. “Each year the main challenge is finding out which riders are hitting what lines and jumps so you can get yourself in the right position for their runs,” says Pondella. “I always try to do something unique and different than what other photographers are shooting. A big part of the fun is running around the hills with all these great photographers.”

To get this angle, Pondella attached his camera to a 15-foot pole and held it above the canyon to reveal the chasm Semenuk jumped into. “I felt this perspective would bring you right into Brandon's world, a place very few people want to be. It shows where he is coming from and where he is going, as well as how precise he has to be to stick that landing. If his trajectory or speed is slightly off, he will either smack the wall or land in the flats, both being a horrific crash he would not likely walk away from.”

Pondella photographed with a Canon 5D Mark III and a 15mm fish-eye lens.

Skiing at Dusk at Brighton, Utah

Photograph by Scott Markewitz

"I was just enjoying the hang time," recalls skier Dash Longe of this moment launching off a 45-foot cliff at dusk in Brighton Ski Resort, Utah. This was the first time Longe had skied off this particular cliff, but he had hucked others in the area. Brighton has a wide variety of cliff bands that are easy to access and see relatively low traffic compared with most ski resorts. Fresh, cold Utah powder would make his landing soft—if only he could see it.

"I couldn't see the landing, but it was not too worrisome actually—I was able to visualize the whole thing and was quite confident I could make it," says Longe, who lives in Salt Lake City and has been skiing for 26 years.

Getting the Shot

Photographer Scott Markewitz headed to Brighton with the intention of capturing this exact shot. “I was looking for a big cliff to shoot at dusk, and this one at Brighton is great to shoot and easily accessible.”

To get his shot, Markewitz trekked up and down from the cliff multiple times to calibrate his photo and get the frame just right. “The biggest technical challenge was setting up the strobes and calibrating everything before it got too dark to get the evening sky,” he says. With one strobe positioned at the top of the cliff and another stand holding two strobes at the base of the jump, the photographer was ready. “We got this shot in one take,” Markewitz recalls.

“It was pretty ballsy for Dash to jump off a cliff that big when he could barely see the landing and then get blasted with the strobes, which basically blinded him before he landed,” the photographer adds.

Markewitz photographed with a Nikon D3, a 17-35mm lens, two Broncolor Mobil2 power packs set up with three heads on stands, and “pocket Wizard radio transmitters to fire everything.”

Climbing in Kootenay National Park, Canada

Photograph by Paul Bride

“They are magical and lovely,” says ice climber Jen Olson of the ice stalactites and stalagmites seen here in Caveman cave located a half-hour hike from Upper Haffner Creek in Kootenay National Park, British Columbia. “It’s so fun to take pictures of them, as well as the gigantic hoar frost on the roof of the cave.”

Olson is seen during a difficult section on a route called Neolithic. “This is a big move, and when you release the lower tool, your body responds by swinging past horizontal to compensate. Controlling the swing is the crux of the route,” says Olson, who lives in Canmore, Alberta, and works as a mountain guide and climbs competitively. “On this route, you have all your weight on your arms for long periods of time, so the clock is ticking. You need to keep moving to keep holding on.”

Getting the Shot

“Jen had already been out to Haffner earlier in the year and mentioned that the ice stalagmites were really big—maybe too big. I had to see for myself,” recalls photographer Paul Bride. When Bride arrived at the cave he found himself battling harsh shadows, wet conditions, and fluctuating temperatures. “The difference in temperature within the mouth of the cave and ten feet outside was incredible. My camera kept fogging up and I was getting soaked from the dripping water.”

As Bride explored the cave to find the images he wanted to shoot, he saw this frame. “Looking back, I remember thinking how cool the composition looked through my viewfinder. I felt like it could be a special image.”

When sun began to burn off the morning clouds, Bride knew he needed to get his shot before shadows overtook the scene. “By hiding the forest behind the stalagmites, taking a reading from the natural light on the wall behind Jen, and a second reading from the ice stalagmites, I was able to create a balanced look throughout the image.”

Surfing Namotu Island, Fiji

Photograph by Stuart Gibson, Red Bull Illume

"I hope I get under this," was the thought going through surfer Sean Woolnough's mind as he rose on this wave, named Love Shacks, off Namotu Island, Fiji. Woolnough had just paddled out for the first wave, missed it, and turned around to face the one in the picture. "I got sucked over the falls and rag-dolled over the reef," the Australian says.

Woolnough was not fazed by his precarious position. "I saw that the wave was quite large, but all was good because I had been in that position many times before," says the Sydney local who has been surfing for 30 years. "I surfed the rest of the day getting some bombs and some more floggings."

Getting the Shot

“Nothing out of the ordinary, other than driving a Jet-Ski with $5,000 worth of camera equipment not in a water housing into huge waves,” says photographer Stuart Gibson of taking this shot. On this “average day,” Gibson captured a photo of Woolnough floating atop a massive wave that has earned Gibson a spot in the prestigious Red Bull Illume Photo Contest’s Top 50 finalists list.

After watching this break with Woolnough for years, the duo got the glassy-wave day they were looking for. “I shot about 10 or 15 photos of this wave. I was kind of worried for Sean, but I knew he's good in big waves. I was more focused on taking a cool photo of a wave that we have chased for so long.”

Climbing El Chorro Gorge, Spain

Photograph by Forest Woodward

"It was very cold and windy and damp, but we were in a really memorable location," recalls climber Blake Herrington (in green) seen here with Scott Bennett at 150 feet above the water in the El Chorro Gorge, Spain. The 400-foot, fully-bolted sport-climbing route is on the limestone Africa Wall.

On their six-week trip to Spain, Herrington's closest calls came not on rock walls, but while driving. "We had some driving adventures on narrow streets in the big cities—and in Basque country, where all the road signs are written in the Basque language," says Herrington, who lives in Leavenworth, Washington.

Getting the Shot

“I had been eyeing this part of the gorge for the better part of two weeks," recalls photographer Forest Woodward. “To get this shot, however, I had a very specific vision for the frame I wanted, so I positioned myself accordingly and stayed there for the duration of the climb.”

“For me this was one of those moments that you hope for as a photographer,” says Woodward. Fortunately, he had the opportunity to get the shot he’d been planning for. “I watched as Blake and Scott became specks, framed by the steep converging lines of the gorge and the river below. Working in unison their smallness echoed my own feelings of awe for the majesty of the gorge, and in the moment I snapped the shot it felt right.”

Surfing Monument Beach, Australia

Photograph by Andrew Shield

“This moment was pure joy,” says surfer Dion Atkinson of getting in the barrel of the popular Monument wave break located along the Great Australian Bight in South Australia. “This wave is a very dangerous, heaving barrel very close to the cliff and on an extremely shallow reef. I was extremely focused at coming out of the other end!” This unique wave should only be surfed by expert surfers. “I have spent a lot of time here, and it is not for the faint-hearted when the wave starts to get some size,” say Atkinson, whose main goal is to qualify for the ASP World Tour.

"There almost isn't a day that goes by over here when you don't get to share a few waves with a seal or a pod of dolphins,” says the 19-year-old Aussie who lives in Adelaide and has been surfing for a decade. “I love it when they are around—especially when the dolphins surf the waves with you and jump all around you.”

And, in Australia, marine life is followed by its apex predator—sharks. “The region is known for sharks, and there have been a few fatal attacks in the area in the past 10 to 15 years. But I always tell myself I have more to worry about on the drive over than a shark in the water bothering me,” says Atkinson.

Getting the Shot

“In South Australia the thought of sharks is nearly always present,” says photographer Andrew Shield. “This coastline is famous because of the great white shark documentaries filmed here. This day the swell was as big as the wave can handle and was beyond the skill of average surfers, but these are the conditions that pro surfers, like Dion, crave."

To get a photo that captured the wave, surfer, and coastline, Shield went wide. “I chose to shoot this session with a 10.5mm fish-eye lens to try to get inside the barrel with Dion and also to include all of the rock formation,” he says.

“I was feeling good and fairly confident of having shot some decent images when a huge seal popped up next to me. After getting over my initial shock, I felt relief that the huge grey shape was not a shark! This was short lived, as the seal started swimming at me and barking at me!” recalls a surprised Shield.

Shield photographed with a Nikon D300 and a Nikon 10.5mm, f/2.8 lens.

Kayaking the Stikine, British Columbia, Canada

Photograph by Barny Young

“I was glad I made it through without getting beat down by this monster,” says kayaker Gerd Serrasolses on paddling these rapids, known as the Hole That Ate Chicago, in the Grand Canyon of the Stikine River in British Columbia, Canada. Serrasolses did a total of four runs down the canyon and claimed the second descent of the Site Zed rapids, becoming the second person to run all the rapids on the legendary river. “The Stikine is considered the Everest of kayaking and is one of the best big-water runs in the world,” says Serrasolses. “It offers a three-day trip down one of the most beautiful canyons you can imagine, through wild and untouched nature, with the best rapids you can think of. It's a paradise.

“Most important of all though, I had a great time with all my friends and discovered one of my favorite runs of all time!” Serrasolses was joined by other members of the Adidas SickLine Team.

Getting the Shot

“I knew that if Gerd swam, he wouldn't be able to get out before V Drive, another of the crux rapids on the Stikine, and only a hundred meters downstream,” recalls professional kayaker and photographer Barny Young. Shooting from a small rocky outcrop along the river, Young was able to get close to the rapids and paddler thanks to a keen understanding of how kayakers navigate rivers such as this. “I anticipated having Gerd in the foreground of the photo punching this huge hydraulic at its weakest point. Instead, he was thrown off-line by a large lateral upstream and dropped into the meat of the hole, backwards,” says Young.

“From a photographic perspective, this frame is great, as the size of Gerd in comparison to the hole gives justice to how big it actually is," says Young. Towering rock walls line the Stikine, drowning out most sunlight before it reaches the canyon’s rushing river. “Often, the lack of sun can be an issue due to the sheer-walled nature of the river. Normally in this situation I would lower my shutter speed to let in more light. On the Stikine, however, the river and subject are moving so fast that this could lead to motion blur, so I find myself lifting my ISO to account for this,” he says.

Snowboarding Near St. Bathans, New Zealand

Photograph by Tim Pierce

"It was a pretty surreal moment, and I can say strongly that I have never heard of anyone else snowboarding here before," says New Zealander Mitch Brown, seen near St. Bathans, an old gold- and coal-mining town in central Otago, New Zealand. The two-time Olympian is doing a tail-grab jump over some of the clay banks that surround a reservoir called the Blue Lake.

"With so much snow at the start of the 2013 Southern Hemisphere winter, our mission was to find an unusual place to go snowboarding and make the most out of the amazing snowfall," says Brown of this trip with photographer Tim Pierce. "We achieved more than we set out to do." Brown spends his winters in New Zealand's top ski town, Wanaka, then chases snow around the globe.

Getting the Shot

“It is very unusual to see this much snow in St. Bathans,” recalls photographer Tim Pierce. When the storm hit the region, Pierce jumped into action. “This was the frame I had in mind. I headed to this location, as I had seen mountain bike photos from around the lake and wanted to shoot a snowboarder there,” says Pierce.

Working with snowboarder Brown, Pierce took advantage of the morning light. “It was quite challenging getting into position to shoot this, hiking in deep snow, up slippery clay cliffs, with a lot of camera kit.” The duo targeted a curvaceous gully. "It had a lot of amazing shapes and forms and a good line for Mitch to snowboard," recalls Pierce. "We found a little roller that Mitch could pop off, and he completed the image with a stylish tweaked tail grab.

"It was a game of waiting for the right light and the clouds to disappear. After a few hours in this zone, the clouds parted, light popped, and there was not a breath of wind, which resulted in the lake mirroring its surroundings. It was surreal!”

Heli-Skiing near Seward, Alaska

Photograph by Grant Gunderson

“Alaska is the best spot, hands down, to ski steep, in a lot of snow,” says French skier Richard Permin, seen here doing a powder turn as he came off a 50-foot cliff he’d just jumped. The Gulf of Alaska is in the distance. “But we struggle with the weather. Sometimes we camp in Alaska for three weeks with only one day on skis—or sometimes none.”

“I skied five different lines,” recalls Permin of this day near Seward, Alaska, with skiers Cody Townsend and Markus Eider. “It was the most productive day of the trip. We starting skiing at sunrise, and we were done at sunset.” The trip was so productive, in fact, that both Permin and Townsend got injured (see more details below).

Scenes from this trip will appear in a Matchstick Productions film called Days of My Youth coming out in fall 2014.

Getting the Shot

“I really wanted to capture something that showed the amazing location and gave the viewer a sense of place, rather than focus strictly on the ski action,” says award-winning photographer Grant Gunderson of this shot. “For this shot, we decided to post-up on a knife-edge ridge, where we would have our best chance to capture some great ski action with the amazing backdrop that Seward provided."

Though the landscape is alluringly beautiful, the skiers were fighting injuries and tough conditions. “The biggest challenge we had shooting in Alaska was athletes getting hurt. Early this day Cody Townsend injured his knee, ending his trip and season. The next day Richard was caught in an avalanche—pretty damn terrifying too—which ended his trip and season. The conditions where absolutely perfect for the skiers to really push the limits this year, but anytime they are pushing it that far there is always a risk of injury,” says Gunderson.

On heli-ski shoots, Gunderson always carries two Canon 1DX camera bodies, and an assortment of Canon L lenses, “everything from 8mm to 400mm. I tend to ski with a very heavy pack as I always want to make sure I have the best tools to capture the moment,” he says.

Climbing the San Rafael Swell, Utah

Photograph by Louis Arevalo

"It's a great challenge to try a climb that not only you haven't done but that hasn't been done by anyone," says Salt Lake City local Mike Friedrichs, seen here making the first ascent of Blood on the Tracks on the Dylan Wall in the crowd-free northern San Rafael Swell, Utah. "It provides an opportunity to use one's experience in route finding, gear, patience, resting—all the things that years of experience help." Friedrichs is seen at the crux of the climb, about 60 feet above the ground with 20 feet to go.

"I called the wall the Dylan Wall, and this may be the jewel of the entire crag," says Friedrichs, a chronic disease epidemiologist and frequent climber in the San Rafael Swell. "And the route is named after the title of one of the best, if not the best, Bob Dylan album. The route is also a west-facing corner that catches the alpenglow in the evening and turns brilliantly red."

Getting the Shot

“Last November I spent a couple of weekends at the Swell, with the intention of making photographs that would capture the feel of the place,” says photographer Louis Arevalo. Arevalo met Friedrichs the morning of the shoot. “My only plan for that day was to shoot late, when the light would be better.”

To get his shot and capture Friedrichs climbing in the stunning desert landscape, Arevalo climbed and photographed along a fixed route, about a hundred feet to the left of Blood on the Tracks. Arevalo’s late-day planning came together for this photo. “When the light really began to pop Mike actually volunteered to climb Blood on the Tracks without being asked. I was super lucky.”

Backcountry Skiing Mount Hood, Oregon

Photograph by Richard Hallman

"It felt like I was flying," recalls skier Tommy Ellingson, seen here launching off a jump at 8,000 feet on the White River Glacier on Oregon's Mount Hood. "The jump had a little pop on it so we went up before we started to fall so that we could match up with the landing. There was a weightless feeling, for sure."

Ellingson and skier Josh Larkin hiked up to this feature from the Timberline Ski Area boundary line, about a 45-minute trek. "I definitely appreciated my friend Josh for hitting the jump first, which took off a lot of pressure and allowed me to really take everything in." Each time a skier hit the jump, he would have to hike back up, which took 30 minutes each time.

"Immediately after the moment the photo was taken, I aired into the transition, where I landed and prepared for a small bump then a superfast traverse to slow down through sun-cupped dirty snow, but looking into a beautiful sunset," recalls Ellingson, who has lived in the Hood River area for 13 years. "The speed for the jump got faster and faster, which was kind of scary because I didn't want to overshoot the landing."

Getting the Shot

Photographer Richard Hallman and Ellingson work together year-round, often at Mount Hood. “In order to get more and more creative, we spend a lot of time climbing high on the mountain, going to very hard-to-reach places,” says Hallman. “I summited Mount Hood for the 50th time last year, and fittingly it was with Tommy. There is no other person who can fill that frame quite like Tommy. His passion and skill are unmatched on Mount Hood, or anywhere."

Ellingson, Larkin, and Hallman were working with warm conditions, and the group faced melting snow and widening crevasses. “The mountain was very precarious and extremely dangerous,” says Hallman, an experienced mountaineer and volunteer search-and-rescue team member.

Ellingson and Larkin had started working on the ski jump the day before the shoot. “That night, Tommy sent me a message to get up to the mountain the next day to shoot," says Hallman. I was so exhausted, but when I saw an iPhone photo of what they were planning, I thought, OMG—what a couple nutty buddies.”

To get the shot, Hallman worked a few different angles on the treacherous mountainside. “The first couple jumps I shot from the uphill side. After that, I went around the other side and got a glimpse of what they were landing on—an A-frame house that looked like it could collapse at any moment,” he recalls.

Hallman photographed with a Canon EOS-1Dx and a f/4, 24-105mm lens.

Paragliding the Big Lost Range, Idaho

Photograph by Jody MacDonald

"There were insane vistas for 7.5 hours," recalls paraglider pilot Gavin McClurg of this record-setting flight over Idaho's imposing Big Lost Range. "Imagine flying over some of the largest terrain in the American West—at between 9,000 and 18,000 feet—underneath a piece of highly engineered plastic and some impossibly skinny lines. It was surreal."

McClurg flew from Sun Valley, Idaho, for 240 miles, breaking the previous North American Foot Launch record of 204 miles. "The conditions that day were the strongest I'd ever flown in," says McClurg, who lives in Sun Valley and has been been paragliding in Africa, the Himalaya, Europe, and over the Pacific. "When I was low, it was frightening, extremely stressful, and, of course, dangerous; but when I was high, it felt like the world was in my hands."

"Sun Valley is one of the best spots in the world for paragliding because of the huge mountain ranges, a vast desert to the south, very strong thermals, and long summer days," says McClurg. "We have only just touched the surface. Much larger flights will be done from here in the years ahead, I am sure."

Getting the Shot

Photographer Jody MacDonald often finds herself soaring in the clouds taking photographs from a paraglider, such as this shot of McClurg. “It makes it easier to be flying with the other pilots because then you are in the same air as them and know where they can and can't fly depending on the conditions. You end up working together,” says MacDonald.

“I don't really know the specific photos I want to capture until I'm up there and see the geography of the landscape and what the light is doing,” says MacDonald. “The flying in this part of North America is unique in that it has a combination of huge mountain ranges, strong conditions, and remoteness which makes the exposure very high and the flying very committing.”

Ski Touring the Ruth Gorge, Denali National Park, Alaska

Photograph by Garrett Grove

“The slope below us had some avalanche potential, so we had regrouped to assess it,” recalls ski mountaineer Andrew McLean, seen here with Noah Howell and Mark Holbrook on a final descent back to camp after a long ski tour in the Ruth Gorge area of Denali National Park. “I ended up going first but did so very cautiously by ski-cutting the slope and trying to get it to slide. There was some surface sluff but not much else."

“The Ruth Gorge is an incredibly scenic place with tons of climbing history and iconic peaks—Moose’s Tooth, Bear’s Tooth, Dickey, Huntington, and more—all packed into one tight area. It is also very easy to get to," says McLean when recalling the ten-day exploratory trip. "In terms of ski mountaineering, it is kind of all or nothing—either flat or vertical, which makes it a tough place to ski. Still, in the right conditions, there are some amazing lines in that area.” McLean moved to Park City, Utah, 25 years ago. He has made steep, remote first ski descents on all seven continents.

Getting the Shot

“It was cold, definitely the most sustained cold I have ever dealt with,“ says photographer Garrett Grove. Throughout the trip the temperature hovered below zero, reaching minus 25°F at night.

Anticipating the challenge of working in such frigid conditions, Grove gathered tips from longtime ski photographers Jordan Manley and Christian Pondella before the expedition. “The two essential tips were: Keep your camera bodies and lenses outside in the cold but sleep with all and any batteries," says Grove. "Every night my camera and lenses would just sit out there, and I would nestle in with about five to six batteries, a hot Nalgene of water, and my ski-boot liners.”

Surfing at Teahupo'o, Tahiti, French Polynesia

Photograph by Jon Frank

“While surfing you see so many different angles of the waves,” says Aussie Mick Fanning, seen here on the world-class surf break Teahupo'o off Tahiti. “Jon [Frank, the photographer] really captured one of those moments with this shot.” Fanning won the Billabong Pro Tahiti in 2012 and is currently training for this year’s competition at the legendary surf break in August.

“Teahupo'o is one of the heaviest, most perfect barrels in the world,” says Fanning. “There is so much adrenaline flowing through the body—it's very high energy.”

Getting the Shot

“Shooting from the water is my preferred perspective because there is a much greater chance of capturing something unusual and unexpected than when shooting from the beach or from a boat,” recalls photographer Jon Frank, who had arrived with longtime friend Fanning in Tahiti two weeks before the surfing world tour competition in 2009 to test the waves at the famed Teahupo'o surf break. “There is a much higher risk you may not be in the optimum position for the best wave of the day or might miss the best action altogether, but I firmly believe that low risk equals low reward.”

To capture this unusual composition, Frank had a bit of luck and great placement in the water. “There is a very tight window of opportunity with a picture like this; everything is moving so quickly. There is certainly some luck involved. It makes up for the other one hundred times that I have just missed out on the peak moment because my timing was off by a tenth of a second,” says Frank.

Frank photographed with a Canon EOS 1Ds Mark III and a 15mm lens.

Kayaking Over Santuario Waterfall, Amazonas, Brazil

Photograph by Chris Korbulic

Getting the Shot

“Santuario is definitely not your average waterfall,” says kayaker and photographer Chris Korbulic. “It almost seemed like a waterfall M.C. Escher would dream up, with different channels and water coming out of the walls.” Korbulic and longtime kayaking partner Ben Stookesberry, pictured here going over Bazil's Santuario waterfall, spent seven weeks exploring the waterfalls and rivers of Brazil, Venezuela, and Guyana.

In order to get this shot while helping Stookesberry set up at the waterfall's lip, Korbulic used a remote camera. “I needed to be over at the lip with Ben to help secure his entry into the water, but I didn't want to give up this shot," says Korbulic. "So I left the camera on a tripod, tied it to some slick roots hanging over the falls, and brought my remote shutter release and another camera out to the lip."

The region had been hit by heavy rainfall, and the brown water thrashing below the falls prevented the kayakers from knowing what what was beneath the water's surface. “As Ben went over the lip the front of his boat caught a rock edge, stalled his forward momentum, and sent him barreling upside down into a pretty awful looking cauldron,” recalls Korbulic. “After Ben came out safely, I was almost just as worried that my camera didn't fire as I had been about Ben! I rushed over and checked my camera to find what would be my favorite shot from the trip, setting a great precedent for the next six weeks of travel.”

Cycling Corsica, Tour de France

Photograph by Christophe Ena, AP

Spain's Alberto Contador, center in blue and yellow, speeds down Vizzavona pass, which runs between Corsica's Monte d'Oro and Monte Renoso, during the second stage of the 100th Tour de France on Sunday, June 30. Stretching over 156 kilometers (97.5 miles), this stage starts in Bastia and finishes in Ajaccio, Corsica. This year marked the first time the tour route included the mountainous French island.

Night Surfing at Keramas, Bali, Indonesia

Photograph by Russ Hennings

“It was quite weird surfing with the lights blaring in my eyes,” says Australian surfer Adam Melling, seen here night surfing during a non-competitive expression session at the Keramas wave break off Bali. “All you can see is what’s on the top of the water. It’s hard to tell where the reef is shallow.”

The Oakley Pro Bali was held here June 18 to 29, 2013, because it is a great wave for high-performance surfing, allowing for aerial moves, big turns, and getting barreled. But surfing the break in darkness is a different challenge. “It was hard to see the waves coming—they just pop up in front of you, then you got to swing and go. If you look into the lights you go blind until your eyes adjust again.”

The stadium-style lights illuminating the scene attracted an unexpected surfing spectator—bats. “There where a bunch of bats flying around the lights,” recalls Melling. “I don’t want to know if anything else was drawn to the lights in the water bellow.”

Getting the Shot

“We were not able to see any of the waves coming at us in the night,” says Russ Hennings, head photographer for the Oakley Pro. “Being in the spot to obtain the photos put us in a very dangerous place.”

Shooting from a Jet Ski, in the dark, Hennings and the water patrol put their experience to the test. “There were waves breaking in different spots and in different sizes,” recalls Hennings. “Several times we were caught off guard and had to bail from our position to avoid the breaking waves.”

Hennings decided to push the limits of his Canon 1DX and rely solely on the ambient light from massive stadium lights, set up at the nearby hotel. “The lighting was very difficult to capture. I was limited to my exposure and film speed. I was able to push the ISO 12800. I have never used this setting before, but the conditions forced me to it. I was really quite happy with the results.”

Hennings photographed with a Canon 1DX and a Canon 70-200mm, f/2.8 L series lens.

Windsurfing on the Pistol River, Oregon

Photograph by Michael Clark, Red Bull Content Pool

"I remember being really cold, but I wanted to get a few more moments in with the helicopter before the sun set," says windsurfer Levi Siver, who was shooting for the upcoming film WindBoost. "I felt very blessed sailing late into the sunset having that beautiful canvas behind me."

Located a six-hour drive from Portland, this coastal spot is always windy and picks up swell from both the Northern and Southern Hemispheres. "It's a pretty remote place, but windsurfers from around the world have been coming here for decades," Siver says.

"Using the wind as your energy, you end up riding five times as many waves as you would surfing," notes Siver, who lives in Maui. "It used to bother me that mainstream America is so out of touch with how progressive the level of windsurfing is now. But popularity means more crowds, which equals less fun."

Getting the Shot

“I shot over 800 images in an hour while in the helicopter,” says adventure photographer Michael Clark, who got this image while on assignment for Red Bull. “With such high winds, the helicopter gets buffeted around quite a bit. Just keeping the windsurfer in the frame can be difficult at times."

A veteran of photographing from a helicopter, Clark worked closely with the pilot. “Cody, of Apex Helicopters, was an excellent pilot and was able to get us down low, only ten feet off the water, and moving at the same speed as the windsurfer.”

As Siver aimed for the highest windsurfing jump, Clark kept shooting. "It was incredible to see him go to work, and his windsurfing abilities were absolutely incredible to watch,” Clark says.

Biking the Mama Rumi Trail, Ecuador

Photograph by Dan Barham

“Decades of foot traffic have worn a path deep into the hillside in some areas that is part foliage tunnel, part natural half pipe," says adventure photographer Dan Barham of the Mama Rumi Trail in Ecuador. "It makes for a lot of fun on a bike."

Jorge Perez, owner of the Ecuadorian tour company Tierra del Volcan, originally ignited Barham’s interest, and the photographer headed down the mountain with local rider Fercho Gaibor (pictured). “Jorge spoke of a trail that was originally an alcohol bootlegging route that had been rediscovered and cleared by the local trail builders,” recalls Barham.

The trail winds down the mountain and through a banana plantation, ending in Telimbela in the Bolivar region. “The trail goes through different climate zones throughout its relatively short course—from high mountain forest through rain forest and ending in a banana plantation,” says Barham.

Climbing New Routes Along the Green River, Utah

Photograph by Celin Serbo

“Just being in a remote place with good friends and learning something new was an unforgettable experience,” says climber Daniel Woods, seen here on an unknown route in Labyrinth Canyon along Utah's Green River. “My goal on this trip was to learn how to trad climb and go into the unknown,” says Woods, whose background is in bouldering, sport, and competition climbing. “The feeling of being a beginner again was humbling, but I had some of the best to teach me—Matt Segal, Alex Honnold, John Dickey, and Renan Ozturk—and they did just that.”

With learning to climb comes learning to fall. “The best part of the trip for me was falling on double 00 TCUs [protective gear placed in the rock] for the first time," recalls Woods, who lives in Boulder, Colorado. "As I was falling, I placed my hands over my head in mid-air, just waiting for the gear to rip and for me to hit the ground. Luckily, the pieces held and I survived.”

Getting the Shot

“You could set up just about anywhere and have a great adventure,” says adventure photographer and climber Celin Serbo of this journey along Utah's Green River. The team kayaked the river and concentrated on two areas Serbo had climbed and scouted on the previous trip. “We were looking for a high concentration of unclimbed routes per location. Photographically, I wanted to highlight the routes these guys put up, while giving it a scene of place.”

Looking to capture the canyon and river, Serbo set up on a nearby pillar to shoot Woods. He had to battle dust and limited light due to narrow canyon walls. “When the light was really good on the canyon rim … we were completely in the shade. This affected timing for shooting and gave us roughly an hour in the morning and evening of great light,” he says.

Climbing in the Verdon Gorge, France

Photograph by Keith Ladzinski

"This particular area is accessed via kayak because of the immense canyon walls—it's the only way in. It’s a pretty special approach," says climber Jonathan Siegrist, seen here about 225 feet above the Verdon River in France’s Verdon Gorge. The canyon, considered one of the most beautiful in Europe, is not far from the French Riviera and is popular with tourists—and rock climbers.

"This is an amazing route in a very unique cave hidden low in the gorge,” says Siegrist. “The route begins with some very overhanging and gymnastic climbing through mostly good holds, then it pulls the roof and finishes on this immaculate headwall of blue limestone." Siegrist, who lives out of his van parked mostly in Colorado, has been climbing for the last nine years. "This was the first hard route I have climbed in Europe on my first European climbing trip," recalls Siegrist. "Hopefully I’ll be back when the water is warm enough to jump in!"

Getting the Shot

"It was one of the most spectacular canyons I've ever shot climbing in, perfect in every way,” says globe-trotting adventure photographer Keith Ladzinski. Ladzinski headed to Verdon Gorge with climbers Siegrist and Nina Caprez to explore the roots of French sport climbing.

"When I first saw this cave I knew immediately that it was going to yield a pretty wild top-down perspective," recalls Ladzinski. The trio kayaked to the location, and Ladzinki set up above Siegrist, who had hung a static line from nearby anchors. “It gave the ultimate bird’s-eye perspective of the route he was trying. I used a basic pair of extended painter's poles to boom out from the wall to get the shot—it was an exciting perch."

After returning to their boat they discovered the boat had a hole. “We rowed hard—and laughed harder—and were only mere inches from the surface of the water when we got back to the shoreline,” says Ladzinski. "I thought we were going to have to swim and that would be bad for all of the camera gear in the boat! That sort of adventure makes it a better memory somehow, you laugh about it while it's happening—and for years to come. In some ways, it’s the best part of the job."

Skiing South Bowl, Revelstoke, British Columbia

Photograph by Ryan Creary

“Despite all the risks, nothing in the world can compare to the elation that comes from the mix of extreme joy, adrenaline, and exhilaration you feel when you ski away from a trick like this,” says freeskier Carter McMillan, seen here doing a backflip among the “snow ghosts,” trees coated in rime crystals due to high humidity and subzero temperatures, in-bounds near South Bowl at Revelstoke Mountain Resort.

While ski touring, McMillan and friends hiked 30 minutes up from the highest traverse in South Bowl to make sure they were alone. “Revelstoke has a perfect combination of incredibly deep snowfalls, endless and easily accessible backcountry terrain, and a dedicated group of riders and friends to shred with,” says McMillian, a Calgary, Canada, native who skied on the last three Freeride World Tours. “I have skied all over North America and have never found better extreme skiing training grounds than we have here in Revy.”

Getting the Shot

“It was one of the standout days of the season, for sure,” recalls photographer Ryan Creary. Shooting in Revelstoke’s backcountry, near Mount Mackenzie, Creary and McMillan found themselves with a perfect day for playing in Revelstoke’s powder-covered terrain. “There are typically only a handful of sunny days in Revelstoke, so any day the forecast is for sun, I try to get out to shoot.”

Snow ghost trees dot the alpine slopes and Creary used them to frame his photo. “Those trees added depth and texture to the image. I set up on the side of the cliff band, and to the side of McMillan, so I could showcase his amplitude and keep the background nice and clean.” The duo shot this flip before sunset crept in. “He stomped the flip clean, first go, and I was stoked with the image,” says Creary.

Big-Wave Surfing Teahupo'o, Tahiti

Photograph by Fred Pompermayer

“Falling wasn't an option,” was the thought running through the mind of big-wave surfer and waterman Mark Healey as he rode this wave. “Teahupo'o is truly one of the wonders of the world. I’ve been making an annual pilgrimage to there for the past 17 years.”

Last week's swells were particularly large—the largest in recent memory—at the wave break just off Tahiti, which beckoned many of the world's best big-wave surfers. From his home in Oahu, Hawaii, Healey had monitored a complex storm system that spawned off of Antarctica. When the storm was 48 hours out and still looked massive, he booked his flight.

“This was a very special wave for me because it was the largest I have ever ridden at Teahupo'o. It took a culmination of experience from my years there to ride it successfully,” says Healy. But with the huge waves come huge risks—and some surfers ended up in the hospital. “After I caught this wave, I got on the Jet Ski and towed my friends into some waves and ran safety,” he recalls. “You can't get too greedy. I got what I had come for that day.”

Getting the Shot

“In the morning, the waves were six to eight feet and surfers were paddling out," recalls surfer and adventure photographer Frederico Pompermayer. "At 11 a.m., the first tow-in set came in with a 15-foot swell, which is too big to paddle. After that, the swells increased and picked up. By the end of the day, we saw a couple of sets come in at 25 feet."

Pompermayer watched and photographed Healey catching this massive wave. “Mark Healey was towed into the perfect position with the exact speed he needed to set him up for this insane wave,” says Pompermayer. “This trip was fantastic because we had two big-swell days. It was so crowded—all the big riders from around the world showed up for this swell. It was a challenge to get a good shot on the boat because of the amount of boats and Jet Skis in the area, but I found it exciting.”

Skiing Whistler, British Columbia, Canada

Photograph by Reuben Krabbe

“I love skiing for the adrenaline rush as well as the exploration that skis provide,” says skier Dan Treadway, a regular on the pages of ski magazines and seen here hitting a 20-foot cliff in his home turf, Whistler, British Columbia. It had not snowed in a week or so, but Treadway and photographer Reuben Krabbe found creative playgrounds like this one to showcase in the seventh annual ARC’TERYX Deep Winter Challenge, a photography contest where six photographers have 72 hours to shoot in-bounds at Whistler Blackcomb Ski Resort.

“Whistler has North America’s best lift-accessed terrain, and many of the world’s best athletes come here to push their limits,” says Treadway. “I moved to Whistler 18 years ago. The biggest change is that back then you knew everyone, and if you didn't, they didn't live here.“

Getting the Shot

“I had seen other photographs with the idea of shooting action sports from an angle below a cliff but wanted to try a slightly different variation,” says photographer Reuben Krabbe.

Facing mediocre snow conditions, Krabbe focused on the challenging terrain and set up underneath a cliff. “This photograph was the second time Dan hit the cliff. The first time, I asked him to kick a lot of slough off the cliff, so he would be in the air with the falling snow. However, there was so much snow falling that you couldn't see him. The second time we opted for as little snow as possible, and it worked out perfectly,” says Krabbe.

“I love using color to add to the emotion of the shot, so the blue coloring is partially a postproduction technique. We were also shooting on the shadow side of Whistler Mountain and looking up into blue skies,” says Krabbe.

Krabbe finished the competition in second place and walked away knowing Whistler’s terrain better. “I learned a lot from working with both Dave and Dan Treadway. Together they catch a huge number of magazine pages every year, so they know light, terrain, and photography almost as well as many photographers.”

Surfing Jaws, Maui, Hawaii

Photograph by Fred Pompermayer

Getting the Shot

“I was so stoked to watch through my viewfinder" as big-wave surfer Shane Dorian was in position for this massive wave, recalls surf photographer Fred Pompermayer. "As soon as he made it through the huge drop, I could see that he was going to make the huge barrel.”

Pompermayer originally was going to skip photographing this early season session at Jaws, a Maui surf break known for its ferocious waves. He changed his plans the night before and arrived on the island the next morning. Two hours after landing, he was in the water capturing Shane Dorian’s winning ride for the Billabong XXL Tube Ride of the Year.

“With the swell picking up in the afternoon, the waves continued to grow,” Pompermayer says. “Just before dark a huge set came in and washed every surfer out. Shane was the only one that was able to make through the sets and was able to stay far out.

“It was an incredible moment. Then he disappeared into the spray of the barrel. It was one of those hold-your-breath kind of moments, to see if he would make it out. I kept shooting and was thrilled to see him reappear. Everyone who saw this ride knew Shane had just scored the ride of the year, no doubt,” Pompermayer says.

Pompermayer shot with a Canon EOS 1Dx and a Canon 70-200mm lens, along with his customized water housing.

Climbing Sea Cliffs, Acadia National Park, Maine

Photograph by Tim Kemple

"Come on arms, do your stuff!" was the thought running through climber Hazel Findlay's mind as she climbed this hundred-foot route after a long day on the weathered sea cliffs of Maine. Findlay started climbing on some boulders just above the water; climber Alex Honnold is seen below her. The trip was a stopover after a North Face team expedition to climb sea cliffs in Newfoundland.

"The sea cliffs in Maine were quite small—a hundred feet. The wall in Newfoundland was probably 1,500 feet," says Findlay. "But the cliffs in Maine are right above the water, so that makes it feel very dramatic and intense.

"I actually learned how to climb on the sea cliffs of my own country, so it was really cool to visit some other sea cliffs on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean," says the British climber who now lives out of cars and suitcases. "Often trips aren't about how good the climbing is, but the adventures you end up having getting there."

Getting the Shot

“We needed to air out and dry out, so why not climb in Maine on the way home?” says photographer and adventurer Tim Kemple, who grew up spending his summers climbing in the state. “I was psyched to share the area with friends," which, in this case, included elite climbers Findlay and Honnold. After a soggy shoot in Newfoundland, the trio stopped in at Acadia National Park to climb. “The cliff is called Great Head. I'm not sure of the name of the route or if it had ever been climbed. We were just psyched to finally monkey around after weeks in the rain,” recalls Kemple.

To capture the steep angle and water and to keep the belayer in the frame, Kemple rappelled from the top of the cliff. “I climbed without a shirt on to work on my tan,” jokes Kemple.

Skiing Portillo, Chile, Overlooking Laguna del Inca

Photograph by Christian Pondella

“We really didn't notice how amazing the ice formations on the lake were when we were shooting,” says Aspen, Colorado-based ski mountaineer Chris Davenport, seen here at Portillo, Chile, overlooking Laguna del Inca. “We knew the snow was amazing, but it wasn't until we looked at the images on the computer that night that we knew we had something special.”

Davenport and photographer Christian Pondella were in-bounds but had hiked about 20 minutes up above the Roca Jack lift into a zone where very few people go. “We had two feet of powder, and then the sun came out and began creating those awesome formations on the lake,” Davenport recalls. “Timing is everything in the mountains, and we timed this shot perfectly.”

Davenport has been hosting events and ski camps at the resort for the past 13 years. "Portillo is truly one of the world's most unique and special ski destinations,” he says. “There is no town there, just a gorgeous, old hotel at the foot of the lake high in the Andes, which caters to all types of skiers and boarders, from families to freeriders. I bring my kids there every season because it's such a kid-friendly mountain—they can't get lost!”

Getting the Shot

“When we first got there, the lake was all open water, then it slowly changed into this abstract formation,” says Pondella, who was in Portillo to ski and shoot with Davenport. “I had photographed in Portillo before, but never had this particular shot in mind. It was not until this trip that we watched the lake transform like it did."

Pondella and Davenport shot the entire day without getting the particular frame they had in mind, due to the terrain. The two had to wrap the shoot in order to catch a bus and make a flight home. “As we were skiing down to the bottom, I looked over and saw this one patch of snow with the lake behind it and shouted to Chris, ‘That’s our shot,’" Pondella says. "This was the last shot of our trip, and for sure the best one as it all came together exactly as I had envisioned earlier in the day."

Pondella photographed with a Canon Mark 1D III and a f/4, 24-105mm lens.

Snowboarding in Laax, Switzerland

Photograph by Lorenz Richard, Red Bull Content Pool

Getting the Shot

"This was the first camp for me—it was actually the first of its type in Europe, so I was quite happy to hang out with such young, talented riders," says photographer Lorenz Richard, who took this shot of Dutch snowboarder Dimi Dejong at the Red Bull Junior Snow Performance Camp in Laax, Switzerland. "The goal was to tell the whole story of the event with action, lifestyle, and portrait images. It was more of a reportage, which I really like."

"A big challenge was the weather. It changed from sunny with blue skies to cloudy and over-shiny conditions within minutes. Everybody was motivated to get shots," recalls Richard. In a controlled event environment it can be difficult to capture unique photographs. "I had two approaches. First, the pipe in Laax is quite known for images with the round restaurant in the background, so I wanted to avoid that angle; The second approach was more graphic. While shooting, I was trying to get the images as clean and organized as possible. I think when you are spontaneous you get the best shots."

Climbing Red Dihedral, Eldorado Canyon, Colorado

Photograph by John Dickey

“Getting to the top of a climb that you put your heart and soul into is always less satisfying than going through the process of being able to do it,” says climber Jesse Huey, seen here free climbing the challenging Red Dihedral route located an hour-and-a-half hike from his doorstep in Boulder, Colorado. Huey had attempted this route over eight days in January 2013. “When I saw that several holds had been broken, it took way more effort to figure out the route than what I had originally anticipated,” says Huey of the sandstone conglomerate.

Even on cold winter days like this one, it was still too hot to climb in direct sunlight, so timing had to be just right. “Below where this photo was taken was a bit of climbing so difficult that if it was even remotely too hot, your shoe rubber would not stick to the friction of the wall,” recalls Huey, whose climbing partner Josh Wharton was bundled up in down jackets on belay below him. "Then when the shade hit, we had less than an hour to climb before we couldn't feel our fingers."

On the day that he actually completed the climb, Huey went to yoga the night before and spent an hour warming up in the gym before hiking out to the climb. “It actually became very stressful because of a looming raptor closure for the area that went into effect January 31,” says Huey. “I finally finished on January 31. That felt really great.”

Getting the Shot

“I went to shoot Jesse on the Red Dihedral because of its notorious reputation,” recalls photographer John Dickey. “And shooting images gives you the best seat in the house for all the sports action.”

Keeping pace with Huey kept Dickey challenged as he was planning the photographs he wanted to capture. “That day conditions were too hot for success in direct sunlight, which was very fortunate because I got to shoot Jesse trying extra hard, right as the shade line was creeping up,” says Dickey. “I had seen the lighting effect previously on that wall and was hoping the timing would work out as it did.”

After watching Huey work the tough route for a few days, the right elements aligned. “The lighting was all natural and timing alone allowed it to come together. I had sat and watched the shadow line several days before and timed it out with Jesse's ambitions,” recalls Dickey.

Skiing Mount Mackenzie, British Columbia, Canada

Photograph by David Carlier

"It's not normal to have this kind of view, but it's very artistic," says French skier Julien Lopez. "We call that a sea of clouds, and it makes the mountain even more beautiful." Lopez was competing in the first event of the Freeride World Tour on Mount Mackenzie, near Revelstoke in British Columbia, Canada, in January 2013. "I could see a part of the terrain, but not everything—but I knew the mountain face, so didn't matter to me."

On Lopez's back is an avalanche airbag backpack loaded up with a shovel, probe, water, and snacks so that he would be prepared in the event of a slide.

In the middle of his run he had to drop a massive cliff, but he had looked at the spot for a long time and knew exactly what to do when he got there. "I got third place, so I guess I had a good run. The snow conditions were so good."

Lopez, who lives in Tresserve, France, started skiing when he was a year old and loves surfing and mountain biking in the summer.

Getting the Shot

With the race set to begin, photographer David Carlier knew the shot he wanted to capture. "The light was beautiful due to the very cold air and a very low sun. I knew that skier Julien Lopez, aka the Flying French Man, would go big, straight off the starting gate for his first Freeride World Tour contest in 2013,” says Carlier.

“I positioned myself right on the edge of the face to be able to shoot Lopez in the air to give a dynamic angle to the photo. I wanted to capture the competition venue visible under his skis, with Julien literally jumping into the clouds. His athletic body position gives a lot of dynamic energy to the shot, and the clouds give a sense of remoteness and elevation.”

Carlier battled bitter conditions throughout the competition. “That day was very cold, -35°C/-31°F on top of Mount Mackenzie. With the extreme freezing conditions it was pretty hard to operate my Nikon D800 control wheels and buttons with big gloves, so I had to take them off to make the shots,” recalls Carlier.

Climbing Myrdalsjokull Glacier, Iceland

Photograph by Keith Ladzinski

“The light in Iceland in the wintertime has more shades and tones than anywhere I have been—it feels like being on an ice film set in Mordor in Lord of the Rings,” says 16-year veteran ice climber Tim Emmett, seen here climbing Iceland’s Mýrdalsjökull Glacier, which was ashy from a recent volcanic eruption.

Emmett and climbing partner Dawn Glanc, pictured on belay, spent ten days in the land of fire and ice climbing new routes and meeting the locals. “Iceland was going through a warm spell, so we looked for a glacier to climb instead of an icefall,” recalls Emmett, who is moving to Squamish, British Columbia, to take advantage of its easy access to world-class adventures. “This was a perfect, very surreal day of climbing.”

Getting the Shot

On this trip, the biggest challenge wasn’t the climbing, but battling the weather. “The snow we were experiencing in Iceland was more like falling slush—it soaked everything,” recalls photographer Keith Ladzinski. “Keeping the gear dry was a huge challenge. Much of the time I was shooting with my jacket over the camera, when possible. I brought two small towels and used them more or less, nonstop.”

Racing a pending storm in the otherworldly landscape, Ladzinski and crew climbed the Mýrdalsjökull Glacier as dark clouds rolled in. As evening approached and the sky took on a purple haze, Ladzinski used a split-neutral density filter to help retain his exposure and darken the sky in the mixed lighting. “Bad weather generally makes for the best photographs,” says Ladzinski. “Dramatic and foreboding clouds made for the perfect sky and the overcast weather, which only made the blue glacier that much more vibrant.”

Ladzinski photographed with a Nikon D800 and 16-35mm lens.

Bodyboarding Pipeline, North Shore, Oahu, Hawaii

Photograph by Ray Collins

“All I do is push a button," says surfing photographer Ray Collins. "At the end of the day, the people riding the waves are the heroes."

In February 2013, Collins was photographing at Hawaii’s famed Pipeline break. "That day it was big, rogue Pipeline. Whether shooting in the water or on land, there is always something new to learn, fear, and respect," says Collins, who has shot several seasons at this wave. "It was between the surfers' Pipe comp and the bodyboarders' Pipe comp, so the best of the best were out there."

Collins captured this shot of an unknown bodyboarder taking on a wave that no one else rode. “What is known is that the wave crashed—it shook the ground when it broke, and it broke directly on him,” he says.

“Sometimes it can make you feel a bit sick to witness these moments," Collins says. "I struggle with that, especially when I’m in the water, too, but it’s my job to document it. I just want these guys to be able to go home safe, to their loved ones, at the end of the day."

Collins photographed with a Nikon D4, a 200-400mm lens, and a 1.4x converter. Follow him on Instagram @raycollinsphoto.

Rock and Ice Climbing in Santaquin Canyon, Utah

Photogrpah by Jeremiah Watt

“At this moment I was thinking how radical it was going to be to swing out onto that dagger of ice,” recalls climber Scott Adamson, seen here on a new route called the Angel of Fear in Utah’s Santaquin Canyon. “The moves going out to the dagger are not all that difficult physically, but you should still be heads up so you don’t skate off,” notes Adamson, a 15-year ice-climbing veteran. “After I weaseled in some good rock protection the climbing seemed mellow.”

This is a mixed-climbing route. First the climber ascends a steep rock roof, then he or she committs to this ice traverse. “I strive to find routes that have big ice daggers and to climb naturally with gear. This route has natural gear placements for cams, nuts, etc.,” says Adamson, who lives at the base of Utah’s Wasatch Mountains and works as a climbing and canyoneering guide in Zion National Park in the summer.

Getting the Shot

“It was pretty rowdy—a crazy little dagger, hanging in space,” says photographer Jermiah Watt of the ice dagger that had formed a few hundred feet above. Watt had photographed in the region before, under different conditions. The previous year, in this spot, several tons of ice had cascaded down the entire wall. “This was a first ascent, so we weren't quite sure what to expect or whether the ice would even allow things to work.”

To capture this shot, Watt set himself at the same height as Adamson by equalizing an ice screw and bolt above and behind himself. “I really wanted to give an idea of the position Scott was in—thin ice and little gear with this crazy dagger just hanging out in space—and for me that translates into working my way in close with a wide-angle lens." Racing against waning light, Watt worked carefully as Adamson climbed. “I would wait for Scott to get into dynamic, angular positions that somewhat mimicked the geometric form of the ice. I was hoping to create an attraction of sorts between the climber and dagger.”

Watt photographed with a Nikon D800 and 16-35mm f/4 lens.

Backcountry Skiing Frazier Basin, Bridger Range, Montana

Photograph by Ryan Krueger

“I had just dropped in off the ridge,” recalls skier Luke Smith of carving this line in Frazier Basin in the Bridger Range near Bozeman, Montana. “I was going pretty fast and the snow was sluffing a lot. It felt great, and I was just enjoying it.” On this day the conditions were perfect—powder with a low risk of avalanches. “I didn’t even notice the pillows on the way down,” says the Alaska native who now lives in Girdwood. “There are several pronounced chutes at the bottom of the face with large sections of rock between them, so I was pretty focused on finding my exit.”

Getting the Shot

“I had seen the snow features when we got to the area, but once Luke decided where he was going to drop in, I knew that we were going to be able to make a great photo,” recalls photographer and Bozeman local Ryan Krueger. “The features don’t always form in the same way, but on this day they looked especially unique and we were lucky to be able to shoot them.”

Krueger hiked up the ridgeline and positioned himself to capture Smith. “This was his second turn down the face and he already had plenty of speed, as he made a big left-hand turn into the perfect spot to capture the photo,” says Krueger. “It’s always a challenge trying to assess the snowpack and make sure that we make safe decisions. On this day, everything came together perfectly.”

Krueger photographed with a Canon 5D and carried 24-70mm and 70-200mm lenses.

Surfing the North Shore, Oahu, Hawaii

Photograph by Matt Kurvin

"This wave was the best ride of my life so far," says Tiago Gil, seen here at sunset on Pipeline on Oahu's North Shore. "I remember paddling into it—I was frightened. I got to the bottom of the wave and looked up and saw the meanest wall of water I've ever seen. Being inside the barrel was so loud, then it turned quiet. It gets so peaceful a split second before it turns into a life-or-death situation." The Sunset Beach, Hawaii-based surfer is a true adventurer who rides waves for the love of it, not for sponsors. "Then I popped up and had never been happier."

Getting the Shot

“It is always rewarding to get a good shot of one of the underground guys," says photographer Matt Kurvin, a regular photographer at Pipeline, where he came to know Gil. "It's not their job, they just do it for the love of it, and it shows in their determination out there. No sponsors, no paycheck from the industry, he just does whatever he needs to do to get by, just to surf this wave.”

After packing up at the end of the day, Kurvin saw this set of waves breaking. “I made a mad dash to get the camera out and lens cap off just in time to capture this. I stayed low to frame the beach, water, and sky," says Kurvin. "I love Pipeline in the evening; the green glow of the lip and yellow sky tends to make the photograph look almost three-dimensional.”

Climbing Wings of Desire, Penticton, British Columbia

Photograph by Ryan Creary

Getting the Shot

"It's very classic and aesthetic," says photographer Ryan Creary of this route, Wings of Desire, climbed by Canmore, Alberta-based guide Marco Delesalle in the Skaha Bluff near Penticton, British Columbia. "It’s one of the lines that stands out right away when you approach the wall.”

The overcast day was perfect for lighting the scene Creary had in mind. “I wanted to try and get a different angle than other routes I had shot from above in this area,” he recalls. After a quick scramble to a boulder perched on a talus slope below the wall, Creary was perfectly aligned to frame Delesalle and the graphic rock.

“I really wanted to showcase the color of the rock," says Creary. "It really stands out, and it’s a very obvious line from that angle. Since it was a bright overcast day with few shadows to deal with, the colors popped very nicely."

Creary photographed with a Canon 5D Mark II and a Canon 70-300mm lens.

Skiing Blackcomb Mountain, British Columbia, Canada

Photograph by Reuben Krabbe

"I knew I had to stick the landing and straightline through the choke in the rock," says big-mountain freeskier James McSkimming of descending this chute, known as Wild Thing Feeder, in Diamond Bowl on Blackcomb at Whistler Blackcomb Ski Resort in British Columbia. "Any error would have sent me crashing into rock—fortunately my landing was good." The Whistler native had never skied this line prior to the shot and has not since. "It is rarely in condition and quite committing." But it is challenging features like this that keep McSkimming happy to live in his hometown. "I love to travel and see new places, but so far this is the place I like to come home to."

Getting the Shot

“Setting up the shot took quite a while because it is such a technical feature with a narrow landing that the skier cannot miss," says photographer Reuben Krabbe. "I wanted to be sure the photo was worth James's risk attempting the line.”

Krabbe says the biggest challenge of this photo was lining up everything for a one-time shot—and getting to this angle without making it more dangerous. "I skied to the bottom of the chute, and climbed up the side, and tried to not disturb James's run out,” says Krabbe.

Working with the ambient light, Krabbe captured the tone of the overcast weather that day. “All the lighting is natural. I love capturing the way things look and feel, realistically," he notes. "Using flash on a feature like this could make for a poppy, exciting image; however, that would sacrifice the cold, organic, overcast feeling of the day."

“To ski this line, you need to come prepared with the correct gear—rope, webbing, harnesses, carabiners, whippet, and ice axe,” says ski mountaineer and photographer Kim Havell of this image of Erica Engle on Prospectors Peak in Grand Teton National Park. "I shot the whole way down. Everyone skied as they would, and I set up quickly around the points of safety in the couloir. It was dark on the north side, but contrast came through with the white, fresh snow, the skier, the steep slope angle, and the rock,” recalls Havell.

After crossing paths in Jackson Hole’s backcountry, Havell joined skiers Engle and Brian Warren to ski the north facing Son of Apocalypse couloir. “We had no idea what to expect going in. We hadn't heard of anyone skiing the route yet this season, which is part of the fun and adventure,” says Havell. “It was extremely cold, a minus 20F start, and since we were on the north side on a cloudy, stormy day, it stayed chilly.”

Son of Apocalypse is a more challenging run early in the winter season, but its northern position also provided the team some protection from the elements. “We made two rappels and one small rock jump out the bottom to the exit apron and leapfrogged down the run," says Havell, who is based in Jackson and has climbed up and skied down ambitious mountains around the world.

Tour Down Under Cycling Race, Australia

Photograph by Gregg Bleakney

Getting the Shot

“The temperature outside was over 100 degrees and the cockpit started to heat up like a sauna,” recalls photographer Gregg Bleakney, who shot this image from a helicopter above the 2012 Tour Down Under in South Australia. “All I could think about was how the cyclists were going to manage the swelter—most had just hopped off a plane from mid-winter in Europe.” Bleakney went to the road race to capture a specific photograph he had in mind. “My goal was to find the cyclists over an interesting geographical feature and to let that feature dominate the frame." To reach those features, at the right time, he cross-referenced the helicopter takeoff duration, flight speed, the actual start time of the race, and the estimated average speed of the peloton. “The timing needed to be perfect and a bit lucky," says Bleakney. "The helicopter was only allowed two or three turns over the peloton at each intercept point.”

A delayed takeoff quickly changed Bleakney’s detailed plans to get the shot. "I knew that by the time the cyclists rolled past the feature that I'd be too far aloft to make the frame I wanted with my zoom lens," says Bleakney of getting this shot above crops along the border of the Barossa and Clare Valleys in Australia's iconic wine country. So he quickly swapped from his full-frame camera body to his backup camera, which had a sensor that pushes the zoom from 200mm to 300mm. "I simply crossed my fingers and hoped for a little serendipitous karmic love—and that led to this picture.”

To cover the race, Bleakney photographed with a Nikon D700 and Nikon D7000 camera bodies, along with two Nikon lenses, a 24-70mm, f/2.8 and 70-200mm, f/2.8.